


Solstice: The Lady of Light

by kassandra_divina_trevelyan



Series: The Solstice Universe [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Marvel Cinematic Universe Phase One Compliant, Not Marvel Cinematic Universe Phase Two Compliant, Original Character-centric, demigod character/oc, eventual steve rogers x oc, gods and monsters of myth, original character origin story, steve is smitten with Helena
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2020-10-26 15:00:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 55,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20744102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kassandra_divina_trevelyan/pseuds/kassandra_divina_trevelyan
Summary: Helena Nepheros holds a family secret: she comes from a long line of demigod warriors with ties to an ancient civilization lost to time. After her body spent nearly a decade in slumber while she trained under the directive of her gods, Helena adopts the moniker of Solstice and embraces her destined path to protect the world from mythological threats. She returns to a changed Earth and her paths cross with Earth's greatest defenders, The Avengers. With an unknown thief unleashing mythological threats into the world, Helena must step into her role as Guardian while finding her place among the Avengers and in the world at large.CANON DIVERGENT STORYLINE, Eventual Steve Rogers x OC (Helena Nepheros/Solstice), [Part 1/5 of the Solstice Universe]





	1. Awakening

In the beginning, there was only her. A wave of darkness lingered around her for what felt like an eternity until she heard a voice from the deepest recesses of her mind, ancient and powerful, command her to awaken. Her eyes jolted open suddenly and surveyed her surroundings to discover a swirling, effervescent blue world. Her lips parted open when she gasped for air, only for a stream of bubbles to escape. She reached her arm out to the faint glimmer of light from above when recognized she resided underwater. She blindly pushed herself in the direction above and counted the slow-moving seconds passing. She released a deep, shaking breath when her face emerged from underneath the waves of the Sacred Lake of the All-Mother and gripped along the edge with her fingers clawing at the rocks. As she pushed herself from the lake’s disturbed waters, Helena’s mind cleared when the years of stored away memories flashed before her eyes—those before the intervening of her Gods and after she discovered her past. 

“By the Gods, I am home. It has been many years, Earth…” Helena whispered while she adjusted her bearings. Eyes of a bright, powder blue hue eagerly absorbed her surroundings. She clenched her fists to feel the ripple of her muscles flexing, and Helena thought about how much she missed a physical body. She remained on the edge of the rocks and allowed her mind to restore nearly seven years of memories to her once slumbering body. Tilting her head back, Helena’s eyes closed when she inhaled the scent of the sea breeze outside the cave’s chamber she resided in; a twinge of nostalgia pricking at her heartstrings like the seasoned musician caressed the strings of their instruments. She could feel the magic hanging in the air around her. Helena rose onto her feet and realized for the first time that she was completely dry, much to her amazement. She walked toward a flickering movement in the archway that was her only exit from the chamber. Helena pressed her hand to the space and brushed against something not entirely tangible or visible like a desert mirage. 

At the brushing of her fingertips, the ripple emerged into a golden light and Helena boldly stepped forward, so the glow eclipsed her vision. When the light died down, Helena stumbled into a large chamber within the cave that she never saw before in person. She stood between worlds, godly and mortal, where the lines blurred and Helena could hardly distinguish what belonged where.

Up ahead rested a dais here a dusty stone relic formed out of nothingness, summoned by the presence of the powerful magic thrumming through her veins akin to electricity jolting through a live wire. Swallowing roughly, Helena cautiously approached the dais and prayed that she remembered what to do from here. She knelt before the relic and pressed her palm flat against the carved symbol in the center. Touching the symbol caused a low, ancestral hum to reverberate throughout the chamber and a hidden door emerged from the wall in front of her, once a dead end. Helena rose onto her feet and witnessed as the stone doors descended into the ground with a trembling rumble to reveal a swirling portal, emerald green, in the space. Helena moved forward into the portal and came out the other end in the lush hills and under the golden skies of the Isle of Destiny–home to the Epranan Gods. 

Helena hesitantly stepped away from the portal a few paces and her eyes memorized the world she learned to call home after years, knowing she would no longer call it home soon. She would certainly miss this place but understood that her destiny awaited her back in the real world. So consumed by her thoughts, Helena hardly realized her body automatically guided her to the base of her final trial awaiting her before the throne room. Only the worthy could climb a thousand steps and bask in the presence of the Gods. Helena set one of her feet on the bottom stair and waited for a second before she lurched up. The full skirt and train of her dress swished around her legs while she marched up to the stairs that led to the throne room in unbridled anticipation. Her feet barely touched each step before bounding to the next one, simulating the feeling of walking on air. The breeze billowed through her brunette tresses and the slit of her skirt. Helena managed a light laugh when thinking about how she would have been daunted by such stairs years ago, and she tackled them with ease. It was hard to imagine the girl she used to be all those years ago as she was now a woman, one who shouldered far more responsibility than she could once imagine. 

Helena reached the top of the stairs and stared down the grandiose hall with minor gods, goddesses, and spirits of the world standing along the walls. They admired Helena as she walked past them with a shy smile and stars in her eyes. Helena approached the massive double doors that separated her from the throne room of the gods, the seat of power in The Isle of Destiny. She took a breath and pushed the doors open, emerging into the throne room. Helena lingered in the door frame so she could take in the throne room for what she assumed would be the last time...for a while that is. The throne room glowed in resplendence, a hall of gold and white and precious gemstones, and seemed the location where the seat of power resided. Above all, energy crackled in the air around her. Helena walked across the hallowed ground and glided over to the twin thrones resting on another dais. 

“All-Father,” Helena greeted and dropped onto one knee before him and awaited his judgment of her worthiness. Kneeling before the All-Father with the rest of the gods watching her with pride and sorrow, Helena’s heart raced in anticipation. She heard their whispers wishing her prosperity and strength to thrive in her new life. The woman kneeling before their king was not the same frightened young girl they met all those years ago. Unbeknownst to them, Helena barely kept her knee from bouncing with all the energy racing through her. In all honesty, this was the most excited the young demigoddess felt in a while. After nearly a decade of training, the All-Father supposedly deemed her ready to accept her birthright as the Guardian. 

“Helena Nepheros, my child, rise.” The All-Father commanded, his voice thundering through the throne room of the Gods and while most people would cringe at the intensity of the sound, Helena felt pride ripple through her. Her blue eyes twinkled brightly when she lifted her head up. Helena stared at All-Father and she basked in the power radiating off him, such power unfathomable to those of the mortal world. The way his voice boomed and power simmered under the surface of each word, the All-Father felt like a burgeoning supernova on the edge of rupture to Helena. She kept her head down for the moment, not out of subservience but rather respect. “You have trained under those who came before you and our watchful eyes. You, as Guardian, hold the spirit of our forgotten land in the depths. As Guardian, do you solemnly swear to uphold your duties of protecting the world from threats of mythological or magical origin?” 

“I do, All-Father.” Helena declared while remaining kneeled before her king she swore fealty to but allowed her head to lift. She looked at her creator with honest sincerity before looking around at the gods of her people. She would miss Eprana and the Isle of Destiny with all her heart, but she had duties to fulfill and a world to protect. She smiled sadly at her best friend Divella, the goddess of love, who wiped at her eyes. Helena cleared her throat and swallowed, “I promise to uphold my oath of defending the world from evil. I dedicate my mind, body, and soul to the protection of Earth and all other worlds from threats of great magic. I shall defend innocents and my home until my dying breath.” The finality of her words caused a ripple of whispers through the gods, major and minor alike, and the All-Father hummed in proud acknowledgment of Helena’s eagerness to serve. 

“You dedicate your life to your path of virtue and I bequeath a new identity to you. No longer are you merely Helena, dear girl. You embody the very essence of goodness and light. Therefore, I dub you Solstice; a guardian of Eprana and the Lady of Light who will protect the world from darkness.” All-Father proclaimed for the gathered deities to witness and his words cast a glow over Helena. Words could not adequately describe the sensation; the closest she could get was what being struck by lightning must feel like except the power was more gradual, more gentle. She exhaled deeply as the power surge settled into her body, making a home inside of her. “You may now rise.” Helena complied and gracefully lifted onto her feet. When her eyes opened, they shimmered a vibrant gold color for a split second before returning to blue unbeknownst to Helena. 

“I will not let you down,” Helena blurted out a promise to the All-Father, who merely chuckled at her eagerness. Never in the eons of various Guardians had there been one quite like Helena. Beyond the fact that she was the first woman to be chosen by the power of the Guardian, Helena demonstrated a willingness to serve a cause greater than herself. She was compassionate and determined, qualities that would serve her well in upholding the light in the world.

“I know you won’t...There is one more thing, my child. Much has changed in the world since you began your journey, Solstice. Although there is greater evil lurking underneath the surface of this world in the shadows, there also heralds of the light who seek to protect the world. You will come into contact with these heroes and I bid you align yourself with them.” The All-Father suggested, but it sounded more like a demand for a warrior from her king. 

“All-Father, I shall find these heroes as you have tasked me,” Helena assured and she glanced over her shoulder to where she would emerge back into the human realm. She wondered about who those heroes might be and what they were like? A sudden nervousness settled into the pit of her stomach when she mulled over that additional task, realizing that she would be interacting with people for the first time in nearly half a decade. If the All-Father could sense Helena’s anxiety, he didn’t react any differently. He stepped down from the dais and walked up to Helena—his nearly seven-foot and imposing form towering over Helena. 

“Your first mission is to locate a magical artifact stolen from its burial place beneath the waves and apprehend on whoever stole the artifact or recover the artifact. The artifact has been known throughout history by many names such as Pandora’s Box. The artifact contains a Winterfall Drakon, a volatile creature from a lost civilization that razed entire towns to ashes. Unleashing a creature like that on a city would only end in disaster. Capture the drakon and limit the damage it can cause. You were trained for this. May blessings find you, dear Solstice.” The All-Father declared and he straightened his posture, signaling that Helena was free to go. Helena nodded and she bowed her head before turning heel and sprinting from the temple. She darted into the white light and when she re-opened her eyes, she ran up to the edge of the Isle and leaped off the side. She exhaled and gripped her amulet, feeling a warmth wash over her and knew she accessed her battle form. Her eyes snapped open and she slowed her descent to a stalled levitation. 

“Now, where is this artifact?” Helena mumbled and brushed off her ivory and gold garb and she figured she should enter the mortal realm to find the artifact. Unsure of where she should go or where the artifact might be, Helena paused her gung-ho rush to achieve her mission and mulled over ideas. She left the mortal world nearly a decade before and she knew nothing as to how the world might have changed. When she returned to civilization, she likely would discover a foreign way of life from what nostalgic, rose-colored memories she clung onto from her abandoned past life.

Fiddling with her amulet, Helena felt the chain tug against her neck and she glanced down to see the amulet, given to her by her father, shimmering and moving on its own accord as it did all those years ago when she first discovered her powers. The amulet wanted to show her something and with any hope, it would lead her to the magic signature of the missing artifact. She refrained from slipping it off her neck as her father warned her never to do so, but she would glance down at it. Helena dove through the layers of clouds and the sunrise sky blurred past her as she followed the amulet faithfully like a compass. 

Helena burst through the clouds to see a gleaming cityscape below with bustling traffic and plenty of noise. Her eyes searched for any indicator and settled on the jumbo-sized screens and foot traffic below her. A closer look and Helena realized she was in Time Square, which meant the amulet led her to New York… and someone decided to release a monster into a populated, metropolitan area. 

“Maximum damage…” Helena murmured when she figured out why Time Square was chosen as a target, recognizing the number of casualties and damage would be too high to ignore. The thief planned on drawing someone out; the only question was who? As she hovered above the city, she heard a chorus of screams rise up from behind her. Whirling around, her keen, inhumanly golden eyes scoured the city streets below and landed upon a bright blue flash of fire nearly three blocks away. Helena wasted no time as she hurtled toward the glow, knowing what awaited her. Growing closer, Helena caught a better visual of the drakon with its icy white eyes and pale blue scaled body. Inhaling sharply with the force to drag a parked car closer to it, the drakon spotted Helena and narrowed its eyes at her. Opening its mouth, the drakon released a bloodcurdling shriek of anger and a pulse of blue light streaked out from its mouth. Faster than Helena could blink or throw up a shield in defense, the pulse crashed into her and Helena resisted a scream while she felt electricity zap through her body. She tumbled from the sky and crashed into the concrete, groaning after the impact. Helena’s eyes flickered open and she rolled onto her feet, nimbly dodging a blast of blue fire. 

Helena snapped her fingers and light erupted in her hands, forming into two distinct shapes. A moment later, a sword and shield made solely from manipulated light emerged in her hands. 

It was time to slay the drakon. 

Releasing a roar that shook the ground beneath them, the drakon blew a gust of fire toward Helena. She rolled underneath the flames and deftly back onto her feet. It would take more than some flames to frighten her. The drakon whipped its tail directly for Helena and she blocked the barbs from slicing skin by throwing her shield between her and the impending force. The barbs bounced harmlessly off the light shield with a metallic clang. Helena raised her sword to the sky and gathered a ray of light pouring straight from the heavens, overhearing nearby civilians murmur about the angelic warrior. A young teen, hiding in one of the alleys, pulled out his phone and started filming the whole thing. Waging a ferocious battle cry in Eprana’s native tongue, Helena brought the blade down on the shield and that blasted a piercing, fiery blast of light right into the drakon’s scaly hide. The drakon wailed and Helena could see her attack burned the drakon badly and most likely pierced through the natural armor of the beast. Capitalizing on her momentum, Helena utilized the remaining power for a twin blast and aimed for one of the rear legs. Her burst remained true and effectively crippled the right hind leg of the drakon upon impact. 

The drakon, angered by Helena’s successful blow, launched two powerful and concentrated blasts of lighting straight for Helena. She dodged the first blow and she mimicked a slicing motion with her sword directed at the drakon. The drakon’s second electricity blast didn’t break through Helena’s nearly impenetrable defense, but it did push her a few feet back. Helena shook her head and her hood slipped away from her face, revealing some of her features not obscured by her mask. Helena cursed at the dragon and leaped back to her feet when she realized she was no longer alone. She turned around to see three figures approaching her. A metal suit with glowing eyes surged past her and levied some form of energy blasts, similar to Helena’s powers, at the drakon. Then, there was a woman in a black suit who pulled out a handgun while she crossed the battlefield. She emptied a clip of bullets into the drakon before darting into the alleyways, making Helena assume she was looking for injured civilians. Finally, a muscular and well-built man in red, white, and blue remained and he made eye contact with Helena. 

When Steve Rogers, better known as Captain America, received the distress signal from the tower’s mainframe… this was hardly the threat he expected. On top of the list of unexpected twists, this woman in white and armed with a knight’s weapons single-handedly taking on the dragon topped the list. The drakon snapped out of its daze and fixated on Helena and Steve. Without speaking, Helena pulled Steve closer to her and threw her shield between them as the drakon spewed out a stream of fire. 

“If you are here to defeat the drakon, I could use some additional assistance.” Helena declared, loud enough for Steve to hear over the noise consuming the battlefield and the drakon’s flames causing panic among whatever civilians remained nearby. 

“What do you need?” Steve inquired and his tone made Helena assured that she was greeted by friends and not foes. It would be foolish of her to insist on fighting the drakon alone due to stubborn pride or some blinding sense of honor. She would defeat the beast sooner with assistance. 

“Your friend in the metal suit, I need him to either distract the dragon or help your other companion help civilians.” Helena strategized while she and Steve moved in tandem behind the shield. She kept a careful eye on the drakon for an opportunity to strike. 

“Stark, did you hear the lady? Air assault or help Nat.” Steve relayed through his comms and waited for a reply as he and Helena steadily advanced on the drakon behind the protection of her shield. The wards on the shield diverted the flames away from Helena and Steve, allowing them to move with ease. 

“Yeah, I heard her Capsicle.” Tony snarkily replied through the static of the comms and Steve spotted Tony sharply banking overhead and launching a few shots at the drakon against its hide. 

“What do you need from me?” Steve questioned, seeing that he was the only one without a mission at the moment. Helena’s eyes met his and Steve swore there was some softness in the midst of the hardened eyes of a warrior. 

“You are going to help me take the drakon down. Somewhere nearby, there is an ornate urn and I need that to seal the drakon away.” Helena informed and Steve imagined what such an artifact might look like. Honestly, he figured it would probably stand out among the streets of New York. 

“What about you?” Steve wondered, knowing that she would be left alone to handle the threat and that didn’t sit well with him. Surely, she could handle the danger as she had been, but battle wore even the greatest warriors down. 

“Me? I’m going to keep the drakon distracted.” Helena remarked and she dropped her shield once the flames ceased and sprinted straight for the drakon. Grabbing onto the edge of its wings, Helena vaulted onto the drakon’s back and thrust her sword down into its spine. The drakon hissed and spat fire, trying to reach Helena on its back. While the drakon was distracted, Steve darted off in search of the urn Helena spoke of. He ducked into one of the nearby alleyways and began his search high and low throughout. Anything even close to what could be the urn he inspected closer.

After the first alleyway turned out to be a bust, he darted back onto the battlefield to see Helena backflip off the drakon and stab her sword down through its tail, eliciting a pained yelp. She removed the sword and rolled underneath it when it whirled around. Helena managed a grin when she ended up underneath the belly of the drakon. She sliced straight across the abdomen and watched as the drakon writhed in pain from the blow. Steve stared at Helena in awe for a split second before remembering he had a time-sensitive task and sprinted a few feet over to the next alleyway. 

When emerging from the second alley empty-handed, he witnessed Helena duck under a lightning blast and deflect it with the flat of her blade. Her eyes glowed in concentration and determination, illuminating her whole face in the glow of gold. She noticed Steve eyeing the alleys on the opposite of the field and she darted over to him, shielding him with her body. They moved together across the field when Tony flew by again and rained a flurry of blasts on the drakon. 

In the third alley, Steve nearly passed by a cluster of dumpsters when a glint of light caught something nestled between two dumpsters and the object gleamed a bright bronze. Steve halted and pushed the two dumpsters apart to see an urn of bronze and marked with black runes in a language Steve had never seen before. That must be the urn to seal away the drakon. Without hesitation, Steve scooped the urn up and sprinted back toward the street, especially after hearing another fierce roar followed by a battle cry.

With the urn secure in his arms, Steve rushed back into the street from the alley to see Tony zooming away from the drakon after firing a couple of shots. The drakon whirled its tail toward Helena and the forces slammed her down into the pavement, leaving cracks from where she crashed into the ground. Helena threw her shield between her and the drakon’s barbed tail, keeping it at bay. She turned her head to the side and saw Steve with the urn. Her eyes lit up and she nimbly rolled off to the side, making the tail miss smashing into her again. Helena placed some distance between her and the drakon before blasting a ray of light to slice the tail deeply. The drakon hissed and Helena waved her hands in the air for Steve to see. 

“Throw me the urn!” Helena exclaimed above the chaos of the battle and Steve, somewhat stunned by her request, wound his arm back and hurtled the urn across the battlefield. Helena sprinted toward the urn and flipped through the air like a seasoned gymnast, catching the urn easily. She whirled on her heel and held the urn into the air by one of its handles. The drakon opened its mouth to launch another lightning blast, but Helena knew it wouldn’t make it. Helena bellowed with the authority of the All-Father, “Expulsiarous!” 

The drakon’s eyes widened in fear at the incantation and turned to retreat, but a sudden vortex of wind emerged from the mouth of the urn and caught the drakon. Helena held the urn high above her head while the drakon was slowly dragged into the darkness of the urn, wailing fearfully the whole way. Within a matter of seconds, the drakon was consumed by the urn and vanished entirely in a clap of thunder echoing across the sky. Steve jogged over to Helena, who lowered herself onto the ground for a moment’s respite. 

“Nice catch.” Steve panted out while Helena staggered back onto her feet as the drakon’s essence clashed against the barrier for some time. Helena grimaced and her eyes flashed golden as she snapped her fingers, charging a small shock in the urn. The drakon roared from inside the urn, but Helena knew she must keep suppressing its power to fully seal it away. Helena nodded and she planned on thanking Steve for the assist when Tony and Natasha came back to Steve and this mysterious, super-human warrior. 

“Who the hell are you?” Tony interrogated Helena and she found herself under three questioning gazes, one particularly distrusting compared to the others. She nearly forgot about the drakon in the urn and sent another shock through the urn when she heard the defiant roar from the inside. 

“I was tasked with retrieving this sacred artifact and putting down the drakon.” Helena evasively answered and while she didn’t cower away, her voice was soft-spoken. With the threat eliminated, Helena adopted a more reserved demeanor compared to that of her battle stance. She glanced between these three strangers with interest. While they were on the verbal offensive, Helena didn’t believe they would harm her… well, maybe the man in the metal suit might. 

“Stark, I think she’s telling the truth,” Natasha remarked and she noticed the slight edge of fear in Helena’s eyes when glancing at Tony. This woman, although a skilled warrior, gave her the lawful good vibe in spades. Plus, dressed in all white? That screamed savior of all things good and just to Natasha. 

“I agree with Nat.” Steve declared, effectively outvoting Tony’s suspicion of Helena. Tony opened his mouth to argue but grumbled instead. He glanced Helena up and down when her attention was fixated on zapping another beam of light into the urn for the displeased roar back from the drakon. After a few seconds, the urn’s inside going dark and no retaliatory response occurred. Helena sighed, knowing that the drakon was finally subdued. She glanced up, which made Tony advert his eyes from her. With narrowed eyes, he pointed at Steve. 

“Nat and I will scout the area for any damages or injured people while you interrogate She-Ra here.” Tony decided while jerking his thumb at Helena and he sealed his mask over his suit. The eyes flashed back to life and he soared into the air. A few feet away, Natasha nodded and jogged after him. Their departure left Captain America and Solstice alone with the expectation that Steve would extract some information from Helena. 

“Are you alright?” Steve questioned when he handed the lid to Helena, sensing that she might need it. Although Tony wanted to interrogate her, Steve felt the opposing way. If this woman wanted to harm them, she probably would have by that point. Helena graciously accepted the lid from him, preparing for the next step of the ritual. Whichever of the gods created such a lengthy ritual to seal away demons and other dangerous creatures would get a stern lecture from Helena the next time she saw them. 

“I am… I must thank you for your help.” Helena remarked and she knelt with the urn while she silently cast a banishing spell to keep the drakon from escaping as she followed the procedure her ancestors taught her during her years away. Hardly the interrogation she expected, but she could sense a deep-rooted kindness in the warrior bearing a costume reminiscent of the American flag. She offered him a slight quirk of her lips into a smile and that set him more at ease. Steve supposed it was her eyes and the honesty they showed in full force.

“I’m Captain America,” He introduced himself while his companions, who she believed was called Stark and Nat, swept the area for damages and any injuries. Helena swore that name vaguely registered but whatever it was from most likely was over a decade-old memory buried somewhere in the past she willfully blocked out. “We’re the Avengers, the defenders of Earth.” At that statement, Helena felt the chain of her amulet jerk and glanced down to see it rising and glowing once more. The last time it did that, it delivered her to the location of the urn. Helena remembered the All-Father’s secondary edict that she find the other heroes who would assist her in protecting the world from darkness. Perhaps Captain America and his compatriots were those she sought? 

“You-! You must be the heroes I am searching for!” Helena exclaimed while she made sure the lid was adjusted correctly for the sealing spell. She couldn’t miss a single step in the arduous process. If she did, the drakon would come loose and reign more havoc on this city or any other depending on who summoned the foul creature. Steve watched the woman move purposefully and waited so he wouldn’t disturb her. He knew Tony was suspicious of where this white-clad, sword-wielding warrior came from, but she didn’t seem to be harboring any dangerous secrets. Her reaction to him before told him that. Helena continued, “I was told by the All-Father that there were heroes he desired for me to find. You three must be it!” 

“We might be. Why don’t we discuss this in a safer area, Miss… I don’t believe I caught your name.” Captain America suggested and Helena secured the lid on the urn. She then whispered an incantation to seal the drakon with an extra barrier to prevent escape from that point on. Steve offered his hand out to Solstice to help her up from the ground and she, after a moment, accepted his hand. His firm grip lifted her back onto her feet, which made Helena smile softly underneath her mask at his kindness. Clutching the urn between her arm and her ribs, Helena smiled and she tugged her mask down. 

“I am Solstice.” 


	2. Revelations

"Solstice. A pleasure to meet you," Steve said and he managed a smile. Hearing her title from another person cemented how right it felt to Helena; she was meant for this. She gave a lighthearted curtsy before Steve, completely out of habit. She glanced up at him once she straightened her posture from the curtsy, noticing his attentive gaze fixed on her. She had forgotten that the age of gestures like curtsying was long gone. Helena daintily cleared her throat to stave off her mild embarrassment; being in society again would take some getting used to. 

"Once again, I owe you and your companions my thanks, Captain." Solstice graciously remarked and Steve noticed how her eyes darted around them, taking in their surroundings. From the wonder that shone within the bright blue, Steve would guess that Solstice had never been to New York before or maybe even Earth. She wore the same astonishment that he likely did when he ran from that SHIELD hospital into Times Square, the same sense of overwhelmed wonder when taking in the sights and sounds of a different New York. 

"I am assuming this is your first time in New York… or maybe Earth?" Steve inquired curiously and he observed the slight tilt of her head as if she was evaluating his inquiry. Helena had never been to New York before, that much was true.

"Well, you could say that." Helena giggled and she planned on elaborating that she hadn't been in America for a decade or on Earth for that matter. She adjusted her amulet hanging around her neck with her fingers clutching around the gemstone. One of the guidelines taught to her by her ancestors, the battle form would only last so long as extended periods. Otherwise, Helena would start feeling the divine form wearing on her mortal body and draining her of her energy. Helena spotted Tony landing a few feet away and slightly tensed up. Steve followed her eyes and noticed Tony walking over to them, his mask retreating to reveal his face. 

"What is this? You're supposed to be interrogating her, not befriending her. Apparently, I can't trust you to do this simple task, Rogers." Tony snidely stated and that comment earned an unamused glower from Steve. He nearly scoffed at Tony's attitude problem; those were some big words coming from the egotistical man who seemingly didn't trust anyone except himself. He didn't trust Solstice or Steve, just like he still didn't trust some of the others on the team. 

"Tony, she stopped that creature and saved the city. She's a hero." Steve stepped between Helena and Tony, sensing the hostility directed toward the newcomer. Steve saw how Solstice faced a majority of the danger in fighting the creature and seemed to understand how to stop it. He knew he, Tony, or Natasha hardly would've thought to find that urn or how to distract it. 

"Or maybe she was the one who released the whole thing in the first place. Think about that, Cap? Did you not learn the lesson from Loki and trusting seemingly mythical people?" Tony angrily questioned on the tail-end of an irritated scoff and Natasha recalled the fights between the star-spangled superhero and the billionaire and genius engineer back on the helicarrier during the Battle of New York. The two men were polar opposites and often came into conflict with their ideologies. Honestly, Natasha was surprised that there weren't more arguments between the two from their assertive personalities and disposition for leadership. 

"You're paranoid." Steve retorted and he saw no benefit in being skeptical when Solstice gave them no reason to be. Tony hardly blinked at Steve's stern tone before the annoyance he felt skyrocketed drastically. Steve was all up on his self-righteous high horse again and Tony thought he needed to take America's golden boy down a couple of pegs. 

"You're being too trusting." Tony snapped and the two men edged even closer to each other, the tensions mounting. The two men glared at each other and Steve utilized his slightly taller height to his advantage in intimidating Stark to back down. The silence was charged and ready to snap at any moment. 

"-If I may," Helena firmly interjected Steve and Tony's argument, but the polite tone of her voice prevented anyone from interpreting her motives as rude or hostile. Her eyes darted between the two men and made sure she held both of their attention before resuming, "I will surrender to you and explain everything with complete honesty. You can take me wherever you'd like and ask whatever questions you must." Helena promised and she pressed a hand against Steve's shoulder, showing him that she was alright. Steve released a breath and stepped back from his defensive, shielding position in front of Helena. She merely intended to stop the escalating argument between Captain America and the man he referred to as 'Tony' or 'Stark.' Her proposed solution stopped both Steve and Tony's disagreement was fair and Tony walked closer to Helena, who kept her eyes level with Tony's. She might be relenting in some ways, but Helena would not cower. That was not the way of a warrior. 

"We can interrogate her back at the tower." Tony decided after a moment of silent staring between him and Helena unfolded and Tony finally broke when he glanced away. He missed the slightly victorious bristle of Helena's shoulders or how her lips quirked ever so slightly into a smirk, which she reigned in. Helena raised her arms up in a gesture of surrender and let Tony prod her toward a looming building rising above most of the skyscrapers of the city. Spotting the giant 'A' etched into the side of the building, Helena assumed that was their home base. She glanced between the team with new judgments. They seemed a little disorganized for a team; did they not have a chosen leader?

"How are we going to escort her back to the tower?" Natasha questioned Tony, pointing out the logistical fatal flaw. If Helena decided to flee, she likely could. How did Tony expect to enforce their bargain with merely Helena's agreement if he didn't trust her? Tony smirked as if he was anticipating that question. He glanced in the direction of the tower upon the sound of twin roaring engines and two remotely-operated Iron Man suits landed beside Tony. One of the suits held an ornate pair of handcuffs, which Helena assumed were for her. Tony brandished the cuffs with a gleam of pride in his eyes. 

"I had these custom-made with Bruce's help. These were able to restrain Loki and I theorize that they'll hold against She-Ra here." Tony remarked and showed them off to Natasha and Steve, the latter not amused by Tony's nickname or aggressive behavior toward Solstice's non-threatening actions. Tony gestured for Helena's arms and she freely held them out. Tony ended up cuffing her. She didn't resist by any means, but her lips shifted into a slight frown. Doubt crept into her mind and she wondered if she made a mistake in trusting these warriors. Steve noted her frown and leaned into her to whisper some reassurance. 

"Don't worry, I believe you. The others will too when you explain your story and you'll be out of those cuffs in no time. I won't let them keep you." Steve promised Helena and watched her shoulders relax. The wild, caged gleam in her eyes subdued and the color relaxed into something more human. She sighed and nodded her head, watching Steve step back. Although she was secretly nervous, Helena knew she could trust Steve's word. Steve assures her that he believes her and that she will be out of them soon) Helena nodded wordlessly to Tony, signaling that she was ready feeling that nothing needed to be said. The suits marched over to Helena and each seized one of her arms, prepared to escort her back to the tower. Tony picked up the urn and fixed his mask, taking off back toward the tower. The suits followed, bringing Helena along with them. 

Helena closed her eyes as she sped through the air and when she opened her eyes, they were flying through the skyscrapers with precision and ease. Her hair whipped around her face wildly and she absorbed the sights in as she rocketed by them. This the world she left behind for a decade and much had changed. The view was overwhelming, to say the least. In her peripheral vision, Helena spotted a blur of red and gold metal speed past and she prayed to the All-Father that Tony did not drop the urn after everything that happened. Her gaze flickered down to the street and part of her wanted to search for Steve or Natasha, hoping that they were following along.

Helena landed on the platform of the tower and allowed the suits to march her inside, not struggling or putting up a fight. She gracefully walked between the two clanking suits, her expression betraying nothing, inside at what appeared to be an open bar and a full space with hardwood floors. There were two strangers she had yet to meet and assumed they were additional members of the Avengers. One cautiously studied her and appeared unassuming while the other wore all-black and a pair of sunglasses obscured his eyes, which were most likely studying her. The metallic clink of Tony's suit entered the room and Helena glanced over at him, wondering what would happen without Steve's presence. 

"Banner, Barton…" Tony greeted each of them individually and Helena pieced together that the more demure of the two was Banner. She watched them closely, hoping to pick up on something that might help the current situation as she didn't trust Tony and Steve, the one she did trust, had yet to arrive. 

"Stark, what the hell?" Clint questioned, gesturing at the oddly dressed woman in cuffs. He analyzed her old-timey armor and glowing eyes with his first instinct guessing that she might be a rogue Asgardian Thor needed to collect. The alarm had gone off with Jarvis warning about an unknown threat terrorizing a few blocks down and those there quickly raced to neutralize it. 

"Who is this?" Bruce questioned, fixing his glass falling off the bridge of his nose and Helena, seeing the lab coat, assumed he was a doctor of some sort. Perhaps, she could get some medical attention for the minor injuries she sustained during the battle.   
  
"This is our suspected troublemaker," Tony declared as the suit peeled off his body on its own and the glare Helena shot at his back could speak a thousand words. She already told them that she was not responsible; she thought the term was innocent until proven guilty and not the other way around. Clint noticed Helena's reaction with genuine interest and he, bolstered by years of spy training, sensed an innocence about her. 

"So, she's the reason for the alarm going off?" Banner inquired, warily watching her and seemed uncomfortable with her. His mild manner intrigued Helena as it stood out among the strong personalities of the other Avengers.

"No, she's not." Steve's voice flooded into the room when the elevator chimed open to reveal him and Natasha, much to Helena's relief. She felt less uncomfortable with Steve's watchful eye on Tony and knew that she might get a word in edgewise. Although she possessed great power compared to humans, Helena never wished to loom over others. However, the situation at hand might call for it and the thought made her stomach churn violently. All the excitement of the battle had worn off by then and Helena felt filled with dread.

"That's still up in the air, Cap." Tony retorted and that kicked the tensions back into high-gear, neglecting how they relaxed somewhat. Helena's eyes widened when she realized what might happen and she felt awkward for causing such a ruckus. 

"You are the only one who thinks so," Steve stated, gritting his jaw as he and Tony stared each other down. Unbeknownst to Helena, the Avengers were still struggling to find their dynamic and the contrasting, dominant personalities between Steve and Tony resulted in a struggle for leadership. She was merely the excuse they would use to justify their competition for control. Tony opened his mouth and the two descended into an argument and the other Avengers immediately jumped in with their own two cents. 

"Guys, can we not-?" Bruce stammered while trying to de-escalate the tensions in the room. He felt his head throb painfully and grimaced. The other guy hated when Tony and Steve argued about stupid shit and puffed up their chests. 

"I never took you as someone distracted by a pretty face, Cap." Tony jibed, his thinly veiled irritation evident and hoping that he might slip under the captain's skin. He was not about to let Steve win this argument. After New York, they should all be on edge when an absurdly powerful, non-human showed up in New York or on SHIELD's radar. He would not let anything like Loki and the Chitauri come to pass ever again. 

"You never trust anyone but yourself, Tony-" Clint interjected, agreeing with Steve. Tony scowled and the three men began to talk over each other. Natasha and Bruce held back for the moment and watched the chaos unfolding, but Natasha quickly rolled her eyes. 

"Boys, you are ridiculous-" Natasha scoffed at the bickering erupting from the others, but her annoyance contributed to the tense atmosphere and the squabbling began to escalate. She crossed her arms and started trying to talk the others down. 

"Guys, I really don't think that arguing will get us anywhere…" Bruce pointed out once again, but no one else was listening by that point. The last voice of reason was drowned out in the bickering, which Helena watched uncomfortably. She expected this team to be more unified, but their intense personalities often clashed. She witnessed the bickering and attempted to stop the fighting with a soft whisper to no avail. Visibly frustrated, Helena forced herself to keep her composure and prepared to make herself uncomfortable by inserting herself into the squabble. 

"Pardon me," Helena forced herself to loudly interrupt and the Avengers stopped their bickering to stare at her. Under their eyes, Helena wanted to squirm but she kept strong. "May I request a moment to change back? Staying in this form drains me." Helena politely requested but the others wondered if her polite demeanor might fade away later on. Tony didn't respond to Helena at first, giving her an untrusting side-eye while considering it. Helena lifted her handcuffed hands up silently with a small frown. 

"Tony," Natasha and Steve interjected at the same time, unintentionally. Helena could see that Natasha didn't see her as too much of a threat compared to Tony. Tony analyzed her for a moment and sighed, walking over to her. 

"Go ahead." Tony agreed, taking off Helena's cuffs to free her hand. She resisted the urge to rub at her wrists and she tucked her hands behind her back. She brushed off her armor with a gentle brush of her hands and she gave a nod of her head, one of gratitude. She lifted her eyes from the ground and studied the Avengers standing across from her, taking each of them in. 

"I suggest that you close your eyes," Helena stated and she clasped her amulet, causing a bright glow to envelop her body and shimmer. The next moment, the light died down as some of the Avengers could see through their hands. Helena brushed off the skirt of her ivory gown and she sighed, feeling her energy slowly returning to her body. Her eyes were returned to their actual color of bright, inhumanely blue and the room was so silent, that a pin could be heard dropping. Similar to in battle, Helena radiated power that was unmistakable for something beyond mortal comprehension. She looked like she stepped out of a mythology book and her whole look radiated ancient Mediterranean vibes. Helena brushes back a stray curl of hair and stood before the half-circle of superheroes, ducking her head and demurely lowering her lashes and gaze, "I believe you have questions and I will do my best to accommodate those questions with answers of my own." 

"Your name would be a start." Tony flatly mused while he brought a glass of unidentifiable liquor that Helena swore wasn't there a second ago up to his lips and took a drawn-out sip. Steve crossed his arms over his chest and the others glanced between Tony and Helena in bated breath. 

"Oh, right!" Helena exclaimed and she ran her fingers through her brunette waves, tossing them over her shoulder. "Solstice is only my given identity by the All-Father. My real name is Helena." She caught several nods from the other and noticed that Tony still eyed her suspiciously over the rim of his drink. 

"Okay, Helena, where are you from?" Tony questioned, maintaining the vibe that this was more than a gentle questioning. Helena kept her face unreadable and composed, not allowing any emotion to slip through for the moment. She would trust her amulet was directing her in the right path and therefore, she would answer all these questions. 

"An island called Eprana. It has not been included on a map since the time of Ancient Greece due to a cataclysmic storm that leveled the island, or so it was recorded by historians. Eprana is in the same vein as Atlantis and El Dorado among the mythical cities supposedly lost to time. However, the island is merely shielded from mortal eyes to prevent the riches and secrets of the isle to fall into the hands of greedy mortal or supernatural hands. Like a mixture of Egypt and Greece during their primes, Eprana was the envy of the ancient world but is now forgotten. I am supposed to make sure it stays that way, for the most part." Helena explained and she thought about her home with nostalgia filtering into her eyes, twinkling and shining like a cluster of stars. She met Tony's skeptical gaze unflinchingly yet not aggressively in the slightest.

"What are you exactly?" Natasha questioned, sensing that the tension in the room might diminish if another voice besides Tony's approached Helena with questions. Helen smiled at her as that was the question she expected. Her off the charts essence and magic abilities placed her in the vague, tentative classification of more than mortal… unless she was a human enhanced by the amulet she often fiddled with around her neck. Steve leaned back, his interest entangled in the middle of this question. When he gripped Helena's hand earlier or when their eyes met for the first time, the super-soldier caught a glimpse of pure, unfathomable power radiating from her.

"I am what you would call a demigoddess." Helena honestly confessed while gesturing to her body. She appeared like any other mortal, but she knew there would be an aura of power that wasn't placated by the identification as a mortal. Gods, describing herself as 'not mortal'was truly messing with her mind a little. She stared at her upturned palms with an inquisitive expression flitting across her face briefly, almost like she didn't know what to consider herself. Helena continued, "I am not mortal, but I am not quite God either, putting me into an ambiguous category." 

"What brings you to Earth?" Banner chimed in for the first time in a while and Helena observed that he seemed more at ease than when the others were arguing. She could understand and sympathize with him. Arguing tended to set her on edge. 

"I am on a mission. My duty is that of the Guardian. Similar to you, the Avengers, I protect this world and my island from magic and mythical threats. I am responsible for keeping the world of myth-based magic and the mortal world separated. An incident like this would cause those worlds to merge with disastrous consequences. Therefore, I am supposed to prevent that by stopping threats when they emerge." Helena remarked, and she bit back a comment that this was her first day. That fact hardly inspired confidence and she figured not everything needed to be exposed about her. 

"What exactly was that creature?" Tony snapped his fingers and a holographic table propped up out of thin air. Tony scrolled through the security footage and stopped on a still-frame of the drakon. Helena stared at the grainy image of the drakon and her eyes flickered to the urn sharply. She needed to have faith that the sealant spell would hold the creature. She could not afford to fail. 

"That was a Winterfall Drakon, the last of its kind. In Greek mythos, drakons were the equivalent of Eurocentric dragons. They often retain the same abilities as lore explains: breathes fire, can often fly by wings, and dangerous to humans. However, this particular drakon had the additional advantage of lightning and hailed from a small island called a Winterfall, which was home to a race of magicians who mastered the use of lightning elemental magic." Helena explained but kept herself from rambling on too much about the creature. She studied it in great length during her training, but those details were not pertinent to the current situation. 

"So, you mean to tell me that dragons are real?" Tony scoffed in disbelief, although he's met a Nordic god. Somehow, that seemed more absurd than alien invasions or the concept that she was a demigod to him; he couldn't explain why. 

"Yes. Among other creatures as well, sirens tend to be my least favorite." Helena stated and the lack of humor in her words punctuated how serious she was. Either she was telling the absurd truth or she was an excellent liar, Tony thought. He narrowed his eyes at her and waited for a slip-up, one that never came. 

"How did you get your powers?" Steve interrupted, side-eying Tony and warning him wordlessly to stand down and he begrudgingly did. He remembered what powers Helena displayed while on the field of battle and that power was nothing to scoff at. She carried herself in action with the grace of a seasoned warrior or the discipline of a soldier. Helena lifted her palm and a stream of light delicately twisted into a spherical orb in her hand. With the closing of her fist, the light disappeared back into nothingness. 

"Birthright. From what I know of my ancient family lines, my ancestors were among those who escaped the 'collapse' of the island and scattered to the wind of the ancient times. They settled among Greece, Rome, the Ottoman Empire, and Egypt. Tracing back to an unknown ancestor, he received visions and powers from the All-Father. When they settled down and had a family, his son inherited the gift upon his death. This pattern continued, passing from son to son until my father had me. I am the only daughter born in this line and the first woman to receive the gift." Helena explained while fidgeting with her dress, unsure of what to do. The stillness made her anxious and her hands twitched, wanting something to distract them. With each passing question she answered, she noticed the Avengers relax. Even Tony, who still seemed to distrust her, eased back somewhat. 

"Why the drakon?" Clint questioned and Helena's face changed, turning solemn and darkly contemplative. That was the question of the hour; one that Helena wished she knew. She suspected that the drakon was not explicitly chosen, but rather a convenient choice for the thief. 

"That… I do not know. I was hunting down the stolen urn with the hopes that I might find the thief who stole it. My gods told me that such an act would bring danger to those innocent, unknowing souls." Helena admitted and she watched Tony, who began to pace the length of the floor. She was unsure if he was thinking of more questions to bombard her with or mulling over the information she shared. It was a lot to process; she knew this well. In the silence, the electric hum of JARVIS booted up through the room. 

"Mr. Stark, while you have interrogated Solstice, I have been reading her vitals. She is telling the truth. The strange energy signature is similar to that of Loki." JARVIS interrupted and everyone turned to face Helena, who nodded. A demigoddess from a vanished island and on a quest to protect the world? That wouldn't be the craziest thing they heard after fighting off an alien invasion and meeting the Norse God of Thunder in the flesh. 

"Thank you, JARVIS," Steve remarked firmly as he stepped forward with some pride in his eyes, directed toward Helena. He walked over to where she stood, facing the Avengers. "I believe this belongs to you, miss." Steve handed the urn to Helena and her hands brushed against him when she accepted the urn back.

"I must return this to my homeland." Helena murmured while she affectionately traced the urn's markings with the pad of her thumb and a dazzling smile. She would return to the All-Father successfully in her first mission, meaning that she was destined for this role. Gripping the urn tight, she glanced at all the Avengers. "I must thank you again for the retrieval of this sacred artifact. I will likely hunt down the thief who stole it and apprehend them." 

"Is there anything that we can do to help?" Clint offered, knowing that having this thief on SHIELD's radar might lead to their capture. Besides, a thief with a penchant for stealing magic artifacts and a desire to wreak havoc on an unwitting public with the creatures warded by those artifacts threatened the security SHIELD sought to maintain. All eyes were on them after the Battle of New York and neglecting this revelation would come back to bite them in the ass; they all knew that. 

"My gods have foretold that our futures are intertwined and I believe them." Helena smiled but that faltered when she stepped forward and nearly collapsed. Since Steve was still close to her, his arms darted out and caught her underneath her armpits. His swift reaction kept Helena or the urn from hitting the ground. He heard her accelerated breathing and noticed tense panic written in her eyes, a pale blue that no human matched. 

"Woah! You weren't kidding when you said the form drained you." Steve remarked and Helena nodded dazedly, combating the lightheadedness washing over her and the shake of her knees. Her body was not accustomed to being used after such a long period in stasis. Helena swallowed nervously. 

"Thank- Thank you." Helena stammered while clutching onto the urn for dear life, making sure it remained untouched. She stared up at Steve with large blue eyes and allowed him to stabilize her. Helena glanced back at the table and figured she should put the urn down before the beast was accidentally released. "I underestimated how using my powers would impact my mortal body. I am getting used to it still." 

"You shouldn't leave just yet. Stay here for a little while… until you recover." Steve suggested to Helena and her face flushed with surprise. She was under the assumption that they expected her to leave at once since she had what she came for. Somehow, the offer was quite tempting coming from Steve but Helena's instinct to be as helpful as possible reminded her that these people did not owe her. She would not abuse their newfound trust for her.

"I wouldn't want to impose," Helena replied, glancing between Steve and the other Avengers. Besides the possible imposition of requesting temporary shelter, Helena found herself wary of potential motives. She passed their interrogation with flying colors as dictated by an unseen voice, not unlike her Gods, but knew they might not feel safe with her in their presence. Steve turned around at the others, who for the most part, nodded along in wordless agreement. Only Tony appeared wrapped up in his thoughts, mulling over the offer. 

"We can use the extra time to learn a little more about the world of myth and magic through studying the urn if that would be acceptable to you, Helena. Plus, some proper introductions are in order," Tony mused, focusing on the objective benefit to avoid acknowledging that he was wrong about Helena and that extra perk seemed to unify the Avengers in rare agreement. Steve gave Helena a questioning look, wondering if her answer might change with Tony's caving agreement to her stay. It would be wrong of them to cast her out after she saved the city and her motives were proven to be in the interest of the greater good. She bore a prophecy that she must find them and work with them; why tempt fate? 

"Very well," Helena conceded and she set the urn down on a solid counter while she leaned against it. She turned to face the Avengers, showing the slight pallor to her face. She straightened her posture with an ominous crack rippling down her spine. Helena studied her newfound acquaintances and a gut feeling informed her that these humans might become her closest allies on Earth. "For such hospitality, I shall allow the urn to be studied… and you may travel with me to my home when I return the artifact to where it belongs." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Tumblr (@queen-among-writers) for additional content on Helena, Eprana, the Isle of Destiny, or the story in general! Please leave a kudos/comment if you enjoyed the series.


	3. Odyssey

The quinjet nimbly soared across the Ionian Sea at full speed with the belly of the jet parallel to the waves, and the kinetic ripples of the engines rocked the crests of the glittering waves. Packed inside the jet, with Clint and Natasha flying, were the Avengers and Helena. The Avengers were on their way to Eprana to return the artifact safely. With the right appeals to SHIELD, Tony managed to receive the necessary approval to borrow one of the quinjets and classified the endeavor as a SHIELD mission. The clearance took a short amount of time to rocket up the highest ranks of SHIELD, but enough time for Helena to rest. Once she recovered her energy after the fight, Helena gave the navigational coordinates that would bring them to the island. She sat with the urn protectively in her arms. Upon drawing closer, she would work on removing the illusion shield that cloaked the island in invisibility to the mortal eye. 

“We are ETA twenty minutes,” Clint announced to those in the back and Helena acknowledged the information with a nod to Clint. He turned back to the instruments of the jet, which Natasha had handled, and the two focused on arriving at the island. The journey had taken a day’s time, and the Avengers rested aboard the quinjet while strapped into their seats. Not the most comfortable of situations, but most of them were used to worse. 

After a few minutes, Helena unbuckled herself from her seat and walked calmly across the jet. She received some confused looks, especially by those in the cockpit of the jet, but she gave a reassuring smile. Her eyes turned to the expanse of ocean ahead of her, and she felt her amulet grow warm at the presence of old magic, familiar magic to her soul. The pull was that of her home, one she was ready to share with those not familiar with it. Helena lifted her hand up, with her palm facing the water, and channeled her connection to the island. Molten gold blanketed the blue of her eyes, and the ethereal glow encased her body in white and gold, garbing her into Solstice. She twisted her hand and closed her fist, expelling the cloak of invisibility. Ahead of them, an island appeared before their eyes—lush, white sands, crystalline waters, and a rocky mountain settled among the trees. Helena overheard gasps from those behind her and smiled at them, noticing how they craned to get a better visual of the island.

“That’s a neat party trick,” Tony mumbled, which made a small grin tug at Helena’s lips as she gracefully flounced back to her seat. When picking up on precisely what Tony muttered to where no one could overhear, the smile became one of pride. She hoped that, despite their rocky meeting, Tony might enjoy her presence as she already forgave him for the initial suspicion he had of her. 

“Where should we land?” Natasha questioned, leaning from the pilot seat to hear Helena’s answer better. Helena gestured to the long strip of sand, encompassing nearly a third of the island’s shoreline. Anywhere along the shore would be their best bet and make for easier access to the portals. The temples on the island could never be stumbled upon by ‘accident.’ They would require a magic tether to the island and a portal made by the said tether. Helena knew of only one place where such tethers existed, and she was one of the few beings in this world and beyond who possessed unfiltered access. 

“Along the sand line is the best spot. You should see where we need to go through to reach the temples as it is the only building on the island.” Helena informed and Clint grinned. Awfully nice of Helena to provide an ample landing space for their convenience. 

“Roger,” Clint affirmed and when the time came, prepared the quinjet for a landing along the beach. He and Natasha spoke back and forth in hushed whispers to each other, acting like it was any other mission. Helena laced her hands in her lap and failed to notice her knee restlessly shaking. However, Steve did and her actions telegraphed anxiety. 

“You alright? You seem a bit… nervous.” Steve leaned over from one seat over, holding the urn for her silently after he noticed her unbuckling before. Helena, eyes lighting up in recognition, accepted the urn back and she cocked her head to the side. Was she nervous or excited from the way her heart raced? Was she both, in reality? 

“Perhaps, I am? I am hoping I made those who came before me proud.” Helena mentioned, surprised that someone like Steve was able to read her so well. No one paid attention to her before she embarked on a journey to awaken her powers, so Helena assumed that people’s notice came with the territory of being inhuman. She was not used to people taking notice of her, much less acting like they cared about her. 

“I’m sure you did-” Before Steve could finish or ask Helena what exactly she meant by that, Natasha called back from the cockpit to prepare for landing. Helena decided to buckle herself back in for safety’s sake and wrapped her arms around the urn as Clint and Natasha looped the quinjet around the island for rotation and deployed the specialized jet engines for a smooth vertical landing. Under Clint and Natasha’s skilled hands and some help from the automated piloting systems the quinjet employed, the quinjet touched down in the sand. The Avengers released their buckles to the seats and rose, stretching their legs with visible relief. Helena could sympathize; being cooped up for the journey hardly seemed enjoyable. In all honesty, she had been too preoccupied to notice how much time dragged on during the trip there. 

“Destination; Eprana. Time: 1323 hours Eastern European Summer Time.” Clint recorded for the manifest log and he worked with Natasha to shut down the quinjet and prepare to board the island. Helena turned to the others and she looked natural against what they saw of the island, capturing the Mediterranean vibrancy of Eprana. 

“I welcome you to my home. It has been ages since anyone has seen its beauty,” Helena remarked as the ramp descended from the jet and she led the Avengers onto the blindingly white sands of the beach. She gestured at the lavish palace up over the crest of the hill they saw and the Avengers assumed that is where she stayed when on the island as she off-handedly explained that only deceased heroes may reside with the gods in the Isle of Destiny. 

“So, you’re saying that this whole island-” Tony gestured to the expansive section of beach and the jungle terrain that followed with it. “This is yours?” 

“Yes, this is all mine. As lovely as it is, I do find myself quite lonely.” Helena confirmed and her skirt billowed behind her in the soft, summer breeze of the island. Eprana was a tropical paradise and in a constant state of summer, never experiencing colds or snow. There was rain, but it was warm like that of jungle terrains. Helena marched toward the mansion and the others, after exchanging somewhat bewildered looks, followed after her. They trekked a little way up the beach, through the sand and onto a carved stone walkway, to reach the giant mansion. Up close, the Avengers could see how she considered Eprana the closest thing to heaven on Earth. 

“This place looks straight out of a classics and ancient history textbook,” Natasha marveled and the Avengers admired the mansion built before them in a walkway lined with opals. The building modeled the open, classical architecture of Greece and Babylon while boasting the colorful, vibrant stylings popularized in Egypt and the grandeur of a long-forgotten empire. 

“Eprana’s culture was greatly influenced by the powers of the ancient world, namely Egypt and Greece and Babylon. The small island was an important trade port and the center of a mysticism movement. The people of Eprana were known for their magic that stunned the mortals of ancient times.” Helena explained and the doors to the mansion opened of their own accord, revealing a foyer dipped in gold and dripping with splendor. She waved her newfound allies in with a smile and allowed them to enter her home first. 

“Woah, this place is incredible.” Clint whistled, adjusting the hearing aids in his ears to increase the volume of the world around him. The quiet of the mansion allowed for the natural world just outside the double doors to be heard. Helena held the door open, even when Steve tried to hold it for her. She smiled at their awe, interested in seeing how the tables turned. Her brief time in New York displayed her wonder at the changing world and now, she got to see them experience her world for a short while. 

“Is that real gold?” Tony inquired, pointing at the various heraldry around the room made of gold, silk, and other precious gemstones that illuminated the mansion in opulence. Helena nodded, stifling a giggle at Tony’s thorough examination of everything on display. 

“As much as I would love to show you my home in greater depth, perhaps that best remains for another day. We have an audience with the forces that be, who should not be kept waiting.” Helena guided the Avengers through the foyer of the mansion and into a wide-open, windowed space, holding her hand out. One of the windows distorted and deep blue smoke swirled into view, turning the mirror into a portal. Helena wished that she could make portals of her own accord, but that power only came when she stood in the walls of the mansion thriving on spirits and magical energy. She beckoned the others to follow her into the portal and they did so, despite some apprehension. Upon passing through the other side to see a temple laid out before them, they felt so out of their element. The whole debacle with Loki and the Chitauri opened their eyes to things beyond human comprehension and imagination, but this was an in-depth look for most of them. 

“What is this place?” Steve asked her and Helena’s face, which started off with guarded, defensive emotionlessness, softened when turning to him. She forced herself to shake off her tendency to hide behind a shield of her own making, not wanting people to get too close. Thus far, the Avengers had earned her trust with Steve above all else. She knew, if nothing else, that he was trustworthy. 

“Somewhere safe for the urn. The spirits of the island will return it to where it belongs with new safeguards to keep it from falling into the wrong hands.” Helena explained to those listening and noticed how her companions admired the carvings into the stone walls of an illegible language… to them. Helena understood the stories written into the walls and she sighed. “A translation from Ancient Epranan into English will not be a hundred percent accurate, but it loosely works out to ‘The Temple of Forgotten Souls’.” She forlornly whispered the macabre name, knowing the storied and somewhat bloody history of the temple, and she stared down at the urn in her hand. She did not share that this was the inspiration for Pandora’s box (that was actually a pithos) with the others and Helena figured some information was better left to the imagination. She gestured for the Avengers to stay back as she trod across the walkway. 

The room was likely marked by magic and charmed traps intended to harm intruders with no place trespassing on the sacred grounds of an Epranan temple. If the others tried to cross the walkway, Helena guaranteed that they would be killed in a gruesome manner. She nimbly moved across the path, and the Avengers watched her approach a small pedestal about her hip height. Helena set the urn on the stand and got on her knees before the pedestal, making her eyes level with the urn. She leaned against the pedestal’s body and swallowed, searching for the prayer in her memory. She remembered learning it many years ago, but the wording needed to be perfect, or else the spell wouldn’t work correctly. 

“What is she-?” Tony whispered, but he wasn’t as quiet as he thought he was when the Avengers glared down the line at him. 

“Tony, shut up,” Steve mumbled and Tony, wanting to protest, knew when he was beaten and closed his mouth. The group turned back when they realized Helena had been murmuring incoherent noises into the stone, unsure if she was speaking tongues or perhaps a language long lost to the sands of time. She repeated the same string of words three or four times before her stomach clenched and she felt the power of the room reach the point of reaction. 

“Occultatio!” Helena’s eyes flew open, a pale white color overtaking them, and the room rumbled at the echo of her words. The carvings along the walls erupted with pale blue light in a rippled fashion, shining mutely like stars when the room was filled to the domed top with glowing carvings. The Avengers stared in awe at the light show and how Helena’s body adopted the glow of her powers in a magnetizing, eye-catching sight. The Avengers found themselves unable to look away from Helena as she raised her hands and the urn levitated into the air, glowing with the same color as the runes. Then, with a slashing wave of her hand, the urn vanished before their eyes and the temple was plunged back into semi-darkness as the runes along the walls faded back into no light. Helena regained consciousness and she shook her head, rubbing at her forehead. Spells like the one she conducted required an enormous output of her power and the assistance of a sacred place like the Temple of Forgotten Souls. Without a conduit supporting her, she did not dabble enough in the specialty of magic to cast a spell like that. With the apparent exception of light magic to heal, form weapons, and neutralize in lethal and non-lethal ways, Helena abstained from using magic. Helena was a combatant through and through, spending most of her training specializing in the neutralization of magic threats through combat and force. 

Helena, stabilizing herself with the edge of the pedestal, cleared her vision and stood up straight. She turned to face the Avengers and defying what they expected, wore a big grin on her face. She started to make her way down the path back to them when a trickle of gold streamed down from the stone ceiling and materialized into the shape of a man. Helena noticed the wide eyes and slack jaws of the Avengers and cocked her head, unsure as to what had them looking stunned. 

“You have returned from your mission, Solstice.” The All-Father declared and Helena stiffened, recognizing his voice within an instant. She did not expect an audience with the All-Father, nor did she adequately prepare her companions for one. Helena whirled around in semi-panic but forced herself to stay focused. 

“All-Father!” Helena gasped and she instantly sank on her knee before him. The Avengers, noticing her reaction, followed suit and took a knee. Steve elbowed Tony when he hesitated to do so and he rolled his eyes but begrudgingly knelt. The All-Father observed the heroes lined up behind Helena with a bristling of pride; she was successful in her missions with quite the efficiency.

“Helena, rise. You have proved yourself worthy of praise.” The All-Father declared and Helena, although still believing she should kneel in reverence, followed the commandment of her heavenly king. Helena was not in the habit of disobeying orders. The All-Father gestured to the Avengers behind her and said, “...your companions may also rise.” Upon hearing that, the Avengers got back onto their feet. Still, they kept their attention on Helena for further guidance on decorum and how to keep from offending an all-powerful deity. 

“All-Father, these are the heroes you spoke of. Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, Dr. Bruce Banner, Tony Stark, and Steve Rogers–they are the Avengers, Earth’s greatest defenders. They assisted in the retrieval and restoration of the artifact.” Helena introduced them one by one, properly linking them to her world of magic and mysticism. She hoped that any lingering doubts in her story would be addressed by bringing them to her island and showing them that everything she shared with them was, in fact, the truth. 

“Yes, I have seen many of their heroics. I once kept watch over this world and now, that responsibility falls to you. You all saved countless lives from potential ruin by containing the dragon and trusting my messenger’s word-” The All-Father declared with some kindness telegraphing through his stoic exterior. He looked into the eyes of the mortal heroes standing behind Helena and he could see who they were, their destinies intertwined with the young woman dedicated in service to Eprana’s preservation alongside Earth’s.

“That’s what we do. Kicking ass, taking names, saving Earth… a regular day’s work.” Tony remarked casually and that commented earned him an elbow to the ribs by Bruce. He didn’t know about Tony, but he and the others didn’t have a death wish and figured that being disrespectful in the face of an omnipotent deity might be grounds for punishment. Getting smitten into a pile of smoking ashes for snark or disrespect hardly sounded fun. 

“It is an honor,” Clint smoothly interjected, hoping to breeze over Tony’s tendency to run his mouth when he shouldn’t. Even though he tended to be the comic of the group, he still was a SHIELD agent and those skills never left. The All-Father nodded in acknowledgment, a collective bout of relief running through the Avengers when they realized potential crisis averted. 

“They were quite generous and hospitable to me,” Helena added, painting them in the favorable light they deserved. She left out the initial suspicion and interrogation by Tony, not seeing it as relevant or productive to the conversation. Her earnest portrayal of the Avengers seemed to please the All-Father and surprised the Avengers. They had no expectation of Helena to be so kind or loyal when she could be nonchalant about their help. 

“As I hoped they would be, Solstice. They proved themselves quite worthy heroes.” The All-Father complimented the Avengers in a way that they hardly realized his intent until after a few seconds. He gestured to them, “I wish you all well on your journey home with safe travels and protection in the battles to come. May Fate take kindness upon you and those you love, Avengers. The path of heroism is marked by tragedy and loss, but lined with the promises of great victory.” His blessing, although cryptic and somewhat ominous, reached the Avengers with good intentions. They nodded and headed for the portal that would lead them back to Helena’s mansion. Helena stepped to follow after them, but the All-Father placed his hand on her shoulder, stopping her. Helena looked to him for an answer, but he signaled to her to wait. She could hear his favorite adage to preach to her looping in her head: answers come to those who are prepared to listen to them.

“Helena, you’re not coming along?” Steve inquired upon noticing Helena was not with them and the others turned around to see Helena standing by the All-Father’s side. She frowned, clearly conflicted. Did she want to? Absolutely. However, could she? No, she couldn’t. Underneath their questioning eyes, Helena’s shoulders slumped defeatedly. 

“I… I am bound to service. My place is on the island, which means this is goodbye.” Helena shared, her voice no louder than a whisper. She noticed that the Avengers appeared somewhat disappointed, even Tony. None of the group appeared more stunned by the answer than Steve. Helena’s infectious optimism had grown on him since meeting her in the middle of battle. He hoped that she would’ve come back with them, sensing her to be a beneficial, needed addition to the team.   
  
“I see,” Steve stated lamely and he struggled with what else to say to her. Goodbye? See you around? Steve swallowed thickly and managed a soft but sincere, “Take care, Helena.” 

“Ne judicio de fata indicio tu, Steve. May fate look kindly upon you all.” Helena wished to the others with a sad smile on her face. These heroes she barely knew, and yet, she longed for their freedom. They chose to follow this path that destiny presented to them, separating them from the common man. Her birth duty dictated a way for her long before she knew and she accepted it, with some dissident that she would be chained to the island for as long as she should live. Her father ran from his duty, his destiny and fate caught up in the end. Could people truly ever outrun fate or did they get blinded by the illusion of safety until it reappears, ready to take what it is owed or a high price? 

The Avengers gave a quick, parting bow to the All-Father in respect before filing out from the temple, one by one. Heading up the rear was Steve and he lingered in the archway to the temple where the portal had taken his friends back the way they came. He glanced over his shoulder at Helena, standing at the side of the All-Father. Her shoulders slumped and her eyes avoiding his, Helena felt her stomach stir uncomfortably and she knew lingering on the Avenger’s departure would upset her more than necessary. Steve sighed and he stepped through the portal, which closed behind him with a small thunderous rumble. 

Now alone, Helena returned to her spot before the All-Father and she watched him expectantly, assuming that he would dismiss her back to her home on the island until the world should need her. Until then, she wondered what might possibly occupy her time. Eprana, although an Eden among Earth, had little to do and no one to share it with. Unbeknownst to Helena, the All-Father studied her with a knowing twinkle in his eyes. He only wished to speak to Helena without an audience looking on and sensed that his words might ease her overt despair. He knew Helena, he knew her heart. She was kind, trusting, forgiving, and attached quickly to those deserving of it and perhaps some who were less worthy. The All-Father, above all, knew her path and that path lay with the ragtag group of superheroes that she brought to the island. 

“May I be dismissed now, All-Father?” Helena inquired, hoping she might be excused back to her empty mansion to find something to occupy her time. Time, the one thing she had plenty of. The journey back home and the unexpected goodbye to her newfound companions left her emotionally drained and she was still recovering from the exertion of powerful magic on her body. Her mortal form had yet to adequately adapt to the newfound power lingering in her bones and how such power wore on her.

“The songbird, although quite beautiful to keep, must have freedom for a ballad worthy of the minstrel’s tongue. It slowly withers and dies when locked away behind gilded bars—forced to watch the world turn from a distance. It requires the freedom to fly with unclipped wings in the hope that it may one day return with all the grace and beauty, but tested strength of the dangerous world. Then, and only then, will the songbird’s tune ring true.” The All-Father declared and Helena found herself at a loss for words, taking in his message. What, or rather, who did he believe to be the songbird? And freedom, that subject was a tad sore with her at the moment. 

“All-Father?” Helena dared to cock her head and vocalize confusion, confused as to his answer. She expected a dismissal, perhaps some praise for a successful mission, or even sending her on another quest for an artifact. A cryptic, perplexing riddle was nowhere near the sort, but on par with his usual behavior. She turned to him for answers and realized he appeared serene. 

“Do you believe that I know what I am doing, Helena?” He questioned her bluntly, startling Helena. She never knew him to speak so plainly as he favored riddles, metaphors, and bewildering those around him with philosophical musings one needed to hear before they understood why. 

“Of course, I do! You are the seer of destiny and the force which guides me. You have never steered me wrong.” Helena promised him, uncertain as to what she was supposed to say. The All-Father, king of the gods, never questioned his judgment. Even less so, in the presence of one of his servants as Helena considered herself to be. 

“Then understand why I am choosing this path for you. You staying on Eprana follows a modicum of tradition and reverence of Guardians’ past. This island teems with magic and history, critical to your success as a Guardian. But I can see the way you yearn for the outside world as a beached sailor yearns for the wild, unpredictable nature of the sea. I know what is best for you and where you are meant to be and that is protecting the world from danger. Which is why you should follow after the Avengers and join them as a defender of Earth.” The All-Father proclaimed and Helena fully expected a lecture of why she should remain on Eprana, so his words blindsided her. Her eyes flicked up to meet her king’s eyes for some inkling whether to see was hearing him correctly. 

“You- I get to-?” Helena stammered, fully processing what she was told. She was getting to go with the Avengers and experience the world outside of Eprana? She had to be dreaming, but would not miss this opportunity to break beyond the confines of what she thought destiny had planned. She squealed out, “Thank you,” Her enthusiasm greatly amused the All-Father and he managed a small smile. 

“Go now, before your new team leaves you behind.” He suggested wisely before he vanished in the same fashion he arrived to greet Helena’s return with the guests to Eprana. Helena nodded, even though he disappeared back to the Isle of Destiny. 

“Right!” Helena exclaimed and she sprinted toward the door where the portal once was to see one waiting for her, conjured by the All-Father for her since portal making was not in her wheelhouse without conduit assistance. She sprinted through the portal and came out the other end on the edge of the trees. She was a little way down from where the quinjet was and might make it if she ran. Pushing through the underbrush with concentration and urgency, Helena shoved past the foliage and rolled onto the sands of the beach that reached the edge of the green, temperate wilderness. Helena tumbled onto her feet and continued running, her dress billowing out behind her in the ocean breeze and her hair fell loose from the restrictive up-do. Her feet pounded against the sand and she spotted the quinjet in the near distance with the ramp still down. 

When the landing gear slowly retracted back into the underbelly of the quinjet, Helena felt her heart lurch and that spurred her to run faster than she considered possible for herself. Her lungs burned with fire and sand tearing through them, but Helena continued to run. The ramp started to shrink back into the quinjet and that encouraged Helena to push herself, despite the burning sensation quickly catching her muscles all over in flames. The ramp nearly closed stirred some defeat within Helena, but she refused to give up on her chance to explore the world outside of Eprana. So, she increased her pace and resisted the urge to scream out of pain. 

However, someone had to see Helena sprinting toward the quinjet as the ramp stopped closing and reversed its course to open. Steve raced out onto the lowered ramp and stood midway as Helena reached the end. She shielded her eyes from the whipping sand and harsh wind as Clint and Natasha put the landing gear back down and cut the engine. Helena dropped her hands from her face and she looked up at Steve, watching her expectantly and hopefully. Helena heaved out a raspy breath and her whole body trembled from the frantic sprint across the beach. 

“The All-Father sent me- He once told me that one never knows what destiny intends for them until it wants you to know. I always believed that my destiny remained here, on Eprana. Little did I know that there was a whole world outside of here beckoning me to protect it. Meeting you, the Avengers, opened my eyes and I realized that my destiny is not stuck on this island. No, my destiny is out there in the world. I don’t expect or demand that you induct me into your ranks or anything, but I- if you will have me, I think I would make a good addition to your team and this is where destiny wants me to be. I am meant to be fighting by your side, for the side of good and light.” Helena declared through heavy breathing and she only hoped that her begging might be enough to convince them to let her stay. Wordlessly, Steve held out his hand to her and Helena shyly accepted it. When she did, Steve smiled and pulled her into the quinjet with a small cheer coming from Clint and Natasha in the cockpit of the jet, a smile from Bruce, and a slight nod from Tony. They were glad to see her back. 

“Welcome to the Avengers, Helena,” Steve remarked as the quinjet ramp closed behind her and, effectively, opened a new chapter of her adventure with a world of possibilities and destiny’s intent for her unknown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Tumblr (@queen-among-writers) for additional content on Helena, Eprana, the Isle of Destiny, or the story in general! Please leave a kudos/comment if you enjoyed the series.


	4. Haven

Touching down on the outdoor helipad of the tower, the quinjet powered down as the Avengers and Helena rejoiced their return to New York. Being crammed in the quinjet for hours was not an ideal use of their time and most of them were ready to stretch their legs and move around a bigger space than the quinjet’s cabin. The ramp docked along the helipad and the Avengers descended onto the tower, happy to be back home. Helena arranged with Tony to stay in the tower until she could get on her feet and adequately adjusted to the world. Steve would not be far as he had his own place in Brooklyn and the Avengers, when in town, stayed by the tower. Helena figured that the presence of friendly faces might be helpful during her period of adjustment. From what she could see and from the pieces of information picked up during bits of conversation, there would be plenty for her to adjust to. She never knew the world could change so much in ten short years; time seemed different to someone who knew deities for who centuries passed by in the blink of an eye.

“It’s good to be back!” Tony declared to no one in particular as he threw his arms up in the air, relief at the forefront. Helena glanced up at the magnificent, glittering tower that would be her new home. There was a beauty to the majesty of Avengers tower, for it symbolized something bigger than herself or any of the others on an individual level.

Clint caught Helena staring at the building with an awestruck look in her eye and he gave her shoulder a nudge, making her smile. She might be a demigoddess, but the ingenious and inventions of human creation never ceased to amaze her. Humans were adaptable, clever beings with so much good to offer the world. Too often, her gods lamented the effects of humans on the world around them and Helena, divided by the nature of the blood running through her veins, stuck up for humanity.

“I am excited to see what the world has in store.” Helena murmured and Steve glanced back at her, over his shoulder, with a smile. Helena’s optimism was something that radiated off her in the same way her power did; he could only describe it as akin to the sun hanging high in the afternoon sky and bringing light to the world below. The Avengers entered the tower and Helena allowed herself to take in the tower since the last time she was here, she was under measurable duress. She planned to explore when the sound of the elevator rang out across the room and drew all eyes to the opposite of the room.

“We expecting any company, Stark?” Steve questioned, warily eyeing the elevator. He gripped at his shield, which he removed from his back slowly. He knew that whoever was on the other side of the elevator could be a friend or someone innocent, but he wouldn’t take that risk without some layer of protection.

“Not that I was aware of,” Tony remarked, but he held back on calling the suit to him. The Avengers and Helena watched as the elevator chimed once more and the doors whooshed open. Walking out of the escalator was none other than Director Fury with Maria Hill, an adjutant’s pace behind him and to the right. Maria tapped at her tablet and glanced up at the Avengers, her eyes settling on the newest face to the batch. She discreetly lifted her tablet camera to capture a scan of the woman’s face and sent it straight to HQ for facial recognition analysis. The woman, Maria assumed, was the Solstice that arrived on their radar from her noteworthy arrival in New York following the popularly dubbed “dragon attack.” Various media outlets ran with the footage of Solstice fighting the drakon with an assist from the Avengers and were generating dozens of stories and theories about the newest masked hero and her debut. Was she an alien? Human? Something else entirely? Was she in cahoots with the Avengers, their newest member, or a complete stranger trespassing on their turf? The Avengers, upon seeing Fury and Hill, tensed. When Fury showed up, that usually meant something had gone awry.

“Director Fury, Maria, what are you doing here?” Steve questioned, pushing his way to the front of the group. His expression, solemn and sharp, conveyed what he and the others were thinking. Fury seemed rather calm, but then again, spies never revealed their cards to anyone. Fury’s strategy was to play his cards close to the vest with no one else even close enough to make a guess at what went on in his mind.

“I came to speak with her.” Fury pointed past the Avengers and to Helena, who was trailing behind them. She nervously perked up when all the eyes settled onto her and stepped forward, figuring compliance would be better for her in the end. Besides, the Avengers seemed to somewhat trust this ‘Fury’ character and Helena could fend for herself, as she could prove when push came to shove. Another trial, another test. Helena believed that destiny intended this for her and that was her saving grace, which made her continue. Therefore, she needed to face this challenge head-on while ignoring the bothersome presence of nerves violently swirling around in her stomach.

“Me?” Helena inquired politely, to which Fury nodded. She should have expected that there would be some questions left for her to answer. She received a cursory rundown about the events in the formation of the Avengers—from Tony’s decision to create the Iron Man suit to the Battle of New York’s aftermath. The span of several years was jam-packed by a rise in metahumans of the hero and villain variety, something that Helena took careful note of. She believed that for good in the universe, there must be an equal measure of darkness to balance things out. Helena knew all about the shadowy agency of SHIELD and that the Avengers were connected to SHIELD, meaning she would be too. “We may talk, in front of the others or privately.”

“Excellent,” Fury clapped his hands together and turned his focus onto Tony. The Avengers seemed unnerved by his presence, despite the lack of imminent danger. Fury never came without reason and some believed that all his secrets might catch up with him eventually. “Stark, you wouldn’t happen to have somewhere that…” He glanced at Helena and she figured out that he needed to know her name.

“Solstice.” Helena supplied helpfully, wishing she was back in her armor. She felt stronger as Solstice than she did Helena, protected and powerful.

“-Solstice and I might have a little chat, would you?” Fury glanced at Tony with an expression that said ‘no’ wouldn’t be taken for an answer. Tony, knowing the futility of arguing with Fury and not in the mood to cause an argument, sighed and gestured toward the elevator.

“Yeah,” Tony admitted and he headed over to Fury. Steve glanced back at Helena to confirm she was okay with being alone with Fury. Upon catching her eyes, Helena nodded quietly at him and that assured him she would be fine. Steve nodded and stepped back as Helena stepped forward. As she passed by, his hand ghosted against her arm with a reassuring touch. Helena’s eyes thanked Steve and she approached Tony and Fury waiting by the elevator. She missed the exchange between Maria and Fury of the tablet and the files labeled with her name on them before the three filed into the elevator. Tony stood between Helena and Fury on pure instinct, used to being in the center. Tony pressed the elevator closed and the Avengers watched on as the doors cut them off from Helena, Tony, and a stone-faced Fury.

A smooth transition up several floors was plagued by a painfully forced silence with Helena’s mind racing, Tony at a rare loss for words or a snark comment, and Fury content with the tension filling the confined space. Sparing Helena from any more overthinking or the irresistible urge to drown herself in the thoughts flooding her mind, the doors chimed open as a respite. She could only hope that whatever Fury wanted, it didn’t involve arresting her or something of that nature. She was convinced that she was in trouble.

Fury moved out first and Tony was not far behind him, walking faster to propel himself in front of Fury. Helena trailed behind the two men, forcing herself to keep moving. Her initial burst of confidence faded out in a lackluster show of sparks and tucked tail when she needed it the most. So much for courage. Something about Fury unsettled her; he seemed to be staring straight through her and dissecting apart her deepest, darkest secrets with a single glance. Tony placed his hand against a scanner along a door at the end of the hall and scanner, detecting his genetic code, granted access to the room. It was an office with a view overlooking the Manhattan skyline, and Helena guessed that this was Tony’s personal office. Helena chose one of the chairs sitting across from where the big chair rested and sank into the seat. Dread pooled in her chest and her anxiety threatened to come crashing down in a flurry of panic, but Helena sternly forced herself to bite back the urge to start hyperventilating. She couldn’t afford to lose her grip. Fury wandered around, touching various knickknacks and observing the space, missing that Tony lingered in the door still. When he did, he gave a stern glare at Tony—it was time for him to leave. Not liking being bossed around in his tower but knowing better than to start an argument, Tony glared back and walked out.

Now, it was Helena and Fury.

Helena’s eyes followed Fury while he lingered behind Tony’s chair until he sat directly across from her, an ingrained habit of hers. Fury leaned back in the chair, which commenced a non-verbal staring contest between the two. Uncomfortably, Helena broke first and forced her eyes into her lap. She wasn’t in danger… was she?

“So, Solstice, I have seen you in action. You have some serious potential and your powers are nothing to bat an eye at.” Fury disclosed as he withdrew a sleek tablet from his coat. He summoned a holographic display of the contents on his screen with a blurry, shaky video, which took Helena a few moments to recognize her pulling Steve behind her shield from a column of flames. She hardly realized that people were filming her during the altercation. Helena watched the short clip over and over with unabashed fascination and Fury pressed pause on the video. He tucked the tablet away back into his dark trench coat, spurring Helena from her distracted state. He steepled his fingers together and studied the woman sitting across from him with interest. She came across as unassuming, demure even. But there was something about her that screamed power beyond comprehension that she hid well, whether intentionally or accidentally. He cleared his throat, “Tell me, what’s your real name?”

“Helena,” She provided her name without much pressing and prodding, which Fury took as a clear indication of her not being a spy. He recalled his initial meeting with Barton and Romanoff and how he had to spend weeks pulling teeth and coercing them into offering information. Even the non-spy Avengers were guarded with their information, despite SHIELD knowing the information beforehand. Her honesty intrigued him for a man used to dealing in lies, secret, and backdoor promises.

“Helena… no last name?” Fury pressed further, keenly curious about the single name introduction. He watched her eyes for signs of deceit, but he saw something else: vulnerability. Through the polite smile and poise, a flash streaked through her eyes reminiscent of a caged animal. She telegraphed anxiety loudly through her eyes, unintentionally Fury assumed. Helena forced herself to shake her head negatively.

“I stopped using my surname years ago.” Helena lied, swallowing back the instinct to blurt it out. She nearly bit her tongue to avoid speaking the name she buried deep within her, not willing to tackle the pain associated with it. Names, they had power, a lesson she learned far too well. Fury arched his brow and his eye looked at her with a gleam that suggested he knew more than she thought he did. The moment she entered SHIELD’s radar by appearing in the middle of New York fighting off a drakon solo, the agency compiled everything they could on her. Fury pulled the tablet back out of his jacket and swiped to the file that was put together on her.

“Helena Nepheros, US Citizen, female, currently twenty-six years of age and born April twenty-sixth. Originally from a small coastal town in California, born and raised there. You were a promising student with academic excellence awards and honor roll, by the look of your high school transcripts. Then, you mysteriously disappeared off the face of the Earth at the age of sixteen. For the last decade, you were classified as assumed dead, and yet, here you are—alive and well” Fury rattled off from the tablet screen and Helena, blindsided by the sheer amount of information and the fact they discovered her identity so quickly, struggled to keep back her nausea. Her hands trembled and she tucked them under her legs to keep them still. Fury observed her reaction and how she was trying hard not to squirm with discomfort. She was a woman who, although forthcoming and polite, had some secrets she wanted to keep inside. He tilted his head slightly and whispered to her, “So, tell me what you were doing all those years.”

“How did you-?” Helena questioned, unconsciously digging her nails into the car in which she sat. She found herself unsettled by the efficiency of Director Fury and SHIELD as an agency in how they managed to uncover her identity. She didn’t like lying to people, but there were some things that she believed should be left in the dark… namely, her past. She would decide when it was appropriate for those things to see the light of day and no one else.

“SHIELD has eyes everywhere, and I mean everywhere.” Fury remarked smoothly and Helena felt her shoulders tensed, unsettled by that statement. Fury set the tablet down and pushed it toward Helena, watching her eyes express a whirlwind of emotions. “So, I’ll ask again: what have you been doing for the last decade?”

“Well, I followed this.” Helena shyly lifted her amulet without removing it from her neck for Fury to look at. He observed the glittering, milky white gemstone encased by gold that seemed to warp underneath the florescent lighting of the room. Before Fury could ask for an explanation, Helena beat him to the punch. She dropped the amulet and cast her eyes down into her lap. “It was what gave me my powers after my father passed and led me home, to my ancestral homeland. There I spent a decade in isolation while I trained to assume the mantle of Guardian. Each day, I spent training to push my body beyond what a mortal coil should be capable of. I still face limitations with being partially human, but I am far from normal.” Helena’s response was to the point and hid nothing. She had nothing to hide about what she did to become the Guardian the world would need. If Fury wanted to know how she worked on breaking her body bit by bit to become stronger or how she burned her soul out with magic not made for a mortal body or how she pushed the limits of what it meant to be human, then he could. Helena knew that lying to him would be a fruitless endeavor and she hated lying. It caused anxiety to overwhelm her and made her stomach turn restlessly like the ocean during a storm, tossing aimless ships about the waves. 

“Let me speak plainly with you, Helena. I think you have what it takes to join the Avengers initiative, but I want to give you a chance to prove it to me and the world that you do, in fact, have what the world needs in a defender.” Fury leaned back in the swivel chair and studied Helena, who sat across from him. Helena felt her hopes soar in her chest and she was determined to earn her place. This is where she was meant to be and no force on Earth or any heaven above would keep her from fighting.

“How might I convince you?” Helena inquired, eager to prove herself to Director Fury. She was no reluctant hero, which set her apart from most of the others in the next room. Fury critically examined her and Helena refused to recede back into herself under his scrutinizing gaze. When she reached a place of confidence, Helena ran with it. She spent most of her life hiding inside a shell of shyness, a defense mechanism to keep people from paying too close attention or trying to enter her life. So, whenever she did feel confident about something, she refused to flinch or hide.

“That’ll be on you to figure out. Excuse me-” Fury cut himself off when his pager started making noise and he pulled out the tablet, vibrating and chiming insistently to grab his attention. The screen flooded with an emergency report about a break-in at the Academy of Science and Technology, a SHIELD institution that trained the greatest scientific and technological minds to work for the agency. These were the minds that developed the weapons of warfare, quinjets, and the numerous other advances that made military-grade weaponry look like children’s toys. Only the most celebrated minds were recruited, and a Ph.D. was required as a prerequisite at the door. What was stolen, Fury didn’t know. But he figured that nothing good would come from whatever was taken being used.

“Director Fury, is there something the matter?” Helena inquired after observing his fidgeting and the way his brows furrowed upon reading whatever had him engrossed on the screen. Helena expected that something was amiss and she felt her body react instinctually. Her shoulders squared back and she felt her heart rate kick up a notch or several.

“Nothing to concern yourself with.” Fury deflected the question as he rose from the chair. Helena mirrored him and she knew that he was hiding something; even his experience as a spy couldn’t hide that from her. In this, Helena found an opportunity. She would convince Fury to let her help and she could show him that she belonged in the Avengers. 

“Whatever it is, I can help. Let me prove myself as an asset worthy of this team.” Helena stepped in front of Fury, blocking him from the exit. She was persistent, that much was clear. Fury and Helena stared each other down before Fury sighed exasperatedly. He did tell her that she needed to prove herself and underestimated her eagerness to follow through. However, having enhanced reinforcement to hunt down the thief was ideal.

“Fine, but on one condition: I will be requesting that some of the others come along with you.” Fury relented and he worked on responding to the flurry of urgent messages arriving at him in bulk. He understood that something was missing and didn’t need a dozen fucking messages about it. Helena’s face lit up, but she forced herself to remain stern.

“Okay,” Helena agreed to his terms without hesitation; she knew the power in numbers and having back-up showed her being a team player. Helena didn’t need to be reckless and prove herself as reliable without others; she knew her own strength. Fury and Helena left Tony’s office and traveled back down to the lounge floor. When the doors chimed open, the Avengers and Maria halted their conversations as Helena and Fury marched out of the elevator.

“Rogers, Romanoff, and Barton, suit up. You all have a mission with Solstice here, an urgent one.” Fury declared, cutting directly to the chase. His sharp message caught the selected Avengers’ attention and they were prepared to hear of the worst disaster imaginable. 

“What’s the mission?” Natasha asked him, scanning his face for an inkling of what they could expect. Fury kept himself pointedly blank and Natasha knew that the matter could be severe depending on the fact he was calling on the Avengers.

“Break-in at SAOST. Something important was stolen from the archives and we need it retrieved immediately.” Fury shared in enough detail to convey urgency, but not enough to breach his precious secrecy. He handed the tablet back to Maria and she, gazing at the notifications, understood his call.

“Nat and I will follow you there,” Clint remarked as he and Nat went to retrieve their extra weapons and gear for a mission. Steve, who was already suited up from their trip, stood beside Helena. He leaned over while watching Fury discuss something with Maria in hushed tones and erratic gesturing.

“Did everything go alright?” Steve inquired lowly as not to garner attention to their conversation. He sensed Helena might be overwhelmed by all the attention as she seemed a little worn down. He didn’t blame her; being a hero and responsible for the well-being of all could be so draining.

“Yes. I am being given a chance to prove my worth.” Helena replied, to which Steve nodded mutely. She lifted her amulet’s charm and wrapped her hand around it, drawing on the power housed inside of it. Her body adopted the familiar, warm glow and when the light subsided, she was garbed in her armor. She pulled her mask up to cover her lips and nose. Her eyes switched between gold and blue in a mesmerizing rhythm that entranced Steve’s attention.

Upon Clint and Natasha’s hasty return, the four heroes followed behind Fury and Maria to the base floor. There, Steve and Helena were ushered into the back of a dark, non-descript SUV while Fury and Maria occupied the driver and passenger front seats. Fury peeled out onto the busy New York street and wove in and out of traffic with dangerous yet highly efficient skill. Maria appeared unmoved by the quick jerks and swerves compared to Steve and Helena. Helena looked like she was going to hyperventilate, throw up, or both. Her anxiety skyrocketed through the roof, but she was highly uncertain if she was terrified of the drive or the mission ahead. She was walking in with high expectations set on her shoulders and she would be crushed should she fail to meet them.

Besides the van and trailing behind them, Natasha maneuvered her motorcycle between cars deftly. Clint hung onto her as she drove, grinning at Steve and Helena through the tinted window. The two vehicles pulled off the main, packed streets and managed to find a discreet way out of the city and heading into upstate along a dirt road. Remote and the middle of nowhere, a perfect location for a secret agency base. Helena bounced her knee at a rapid-fire rate, which didn’t slip past Steve’s notice. He had no clue what she and Fury discussed when alone, but whatever it was had Helena on edge. She seemed frightened and nervous, clearly. Soon enough, with how fast Fury was driving, the group arrived outside the SHIELD Academy for Science and Technology.

“What’s this place?” Helena inquired, staring up at the pristine building when she and Steve jumped out of the backseat. Natasha and Clint pulled up a short distance away and cut the motorcycle’s engine. Fury and Maria got out of their seats, clearly in the middle of a tense discussion.

“The SHIELD Academy of Science and Technology,” Maria explained and Helena nodded, accepting the answer she was given without pressing further. There would be room for questions later. The four, with Clint and Natasha rejoining them, headed inside the Academy. Their presence drew the attention of potentials and faculty agents as crowds formed, wanting to get a glimpse at the Avengers. It wasn’t every day that the Director of SHIELD, his right hand, and Earth’s mightiest heroes showed up.

Consequently, Helena’s presence generated plenty of whispers as many had seen the footage with hints of her name popping up from the crowd. Helena kept her eyes straight ahead, not wanting to listen to the rumors. She needed to be focused on the mission; it was her one chance to show Fury that she was deserving. Maria split from the group to divert attention elsewhere and keep the nosy potential agents from noticing that there was a break-in. For all they know, an academy student might be the culprit. Fury led the Avengers to the scene of the break-in: a vault with a security code, a handprint scanner, and several security cameras. From what he was told, there was no sight of the thief, which should have been impossible. But here they were. The scene was as simple as they got: a dark room, a broken display case with sensors attached, and the air of mystery.

“Find the artifact.” Fury demanded before he turned around and walked out of the room, his trench coat dramatically flaring out behind him. Helena approached the shattered glass case and squatted down in front of it. Natasha made a conversation with the two guards, asking them questions. Clint and Steve joined Helena by the case and watched her examine it.

“So, what’s our first step?” Steve inquired while he stared at the box. He didn’t see much in it. Just an empty pedestal where something important once was, but he had a feeling Helena saw something he and Clint didn’t.

“The amulet is picking up on an energy signature, which I plan to analyze. If it recognizes the trace elements as those belonging to the thief, then I can go after them.” Helena decided after some contemplation, which mainly consisted of her narrowing her eyes and chewing her lip in deep concentration.

“What are these trace elements?” Clint questioned with a blank look and Helena, so preoccupied with her examination of the display case and preparation for trace searching, forgot that ordinary people were unaware of the inner workings of magic. She nearly smacked herself for being so airheaded during a time like this; she swore she was smart, but times like this made her doubt that.

“Oh! Right. From what I know about magic, which is not as much as I should, all magic users leave behind an energy signature that is specific to them. Certain objects can identify those signatures. The thief, who has refused to hide their signature, essentially is leaving their fingerprints all over the scene. I can track them through their trace for as far as it will let me. The best metaphor I can make is like bloodhounds.” Helena remarked and she felt ridiculous while struggling to find the words to explain. Magic was not her strongest suit, with the notable exception of her light manipulation. She was much more of a warrior than a mage like her predecessors. When it came to magic, she barely understood it herself.

“Got it,” Steve tilted his head, somewhat fascinated. Magic, most of the time, went over his head and he had no patience for nonsensical explanations. But Helena seemed to be less confident in the workings of magic, so her explaining it was to the point.

“So, you can track them. What if the trace goes cold?” Clint inquired, and he watched Helena’s nose scrunch up. She didn’t like the thought of that, but there was a chance of it happening again.

“Sometimes the user can sever the connection and that’s when the trace will be impossible to follow. At that point, I would have to wait for a new trace.”

“Which means the thief would need to strike again,” Steve commented, understanding the frustration written across her features. Helena likely had no clue she was telegraphing everything to the rest of them, but that she was.

“Correct,” Helena confirmed, and she steadied herself by gripping onto the pedestal as she closed her eyes. When they opened, Clint and Steve witnessed as the blue melted into gold, but the gold spread across her eyes to absorb the white. Seeing Helena like that was… somewhat unnerving. The amulet’s jewel lifted from around her neck and Helena felt a tug in her stomach, a link to nearby magic weaving to her. Natasha finished speaking to the guards, wandered over and stood beside Clint. The three watched Helena remain still, not even blinking. Then, she began to move. Helena glanced over her shoulder at the open door and through the air, she could see a shimmering trail. She expected it to be weakened or faint from the length of time and the distance, but she was faced by the opposite. The trail was strong, pulsating with power even. That could only mean one thing.

”The artifact is in the base still.” Helena informed with confusion twisting her features and her eyes darting around the room. She nearly questioned herself and checked for the trace again, which reaffirmed that the artifact was in the building somewhere. If the artifact was still here…

“-Meaning so is the thief,” Clint quickly deduced, and Helena nodded, glancing up from the shattered glass case. The crime scene was messy, disorganized, and a complete one-eighty from the thief’s previous heist. With the urn and the drakon, the thief was nimble and organized. They chose to put distance between themselves and the temple where the artifact was taken from and chose a location across the sea to unleash the damage. But this was different, almost like the thief wanted to be caught… or they wanted to lure her here.

“Precisely,” Natasha agreed, catching onto Clint’s theory with Steve following not far behind. But the question remained: why? What did this thief seek to do with an unknown artifact that required them to stay nearby? Helena searched for the thief and their spectral signature, but she found a cold and dead trail. That complicated things significantly but one less issue to worry about. She would find the thief again; they had a habit of entering her life to taunt her and send her on a wild chase.

“What was stolen?” Helena inquired of the unnamed agents standing guard by the doorway, glancing between the two of them. One of them, after a moment, pulled out a sleek tablet that seemed common among specific agents. She gathered that it was a matter of security clearance levels and higher levels of clearance denoted positional perks. He inputted a code into the tablet and opened the archive files, then passing it off to Helena. She accepted the tablet and her eyes scanned the redacted text for a name or something when she settled on a picture. The photograph, which was a tad grainy and out of focus, showed an obelisk-shaped crystal with unknown carvings etched into the side. The red of the carvings and the glittering black of the glass set off warning bells in Helena’s mind when the face of a beast flashed through her vision. She recalled reading a book from Cohnos’, the god of medicine/healing and wisdom, personal library on the Isle of Destiny. The tablet nearly dropped from her hands and the confidence drained from her eyes. If the artifact was still on the premises, they all were in grave danger.

Natasha and Clint were speaking in the background, but their voices muted out as Helena felt her body tremble uncontrollably. She recalled Cohnos’ bleak warning, stark as the midnight hour: _Should you ever encounter this beast, pray. Few have survived its wrath and entire cities were razed to the ground in blood and broken bodies. _

“Solstice?” Steve’s voice sliced through the chaos in her mind, her frantic strategy of how to break the news to the others. Her eyes blankly stared at the words in front of her and she could read between the redacted lines. SHIELD had no need for an artifact possessing that much power or harboring a danger of that magnitude! If someone with bad intentions got their hands on it, they could—they already had. 

“No… fata crudele consili damnare!” Helena’s face paled and she closed the file, averting her eyes by screwing them shut. She knew what exactly what they were up against. The artifact was designed eons ago by a group of magic wielders in Asia Minor to combat a specific creature with limited weaknesses and an affinity for human flesh. She swallowed thickly and whispered, “Captain, you and the others need to clear out the base, now. Everyone in this forsaken base and the vicinity is in danger.”

“Solstice, what is it?” Steve grabbed her by the shoulders and his eyes stared into the depths of the gold wall where her eyes, likely a frightened blue, hid behind. Helena’s hand trembled slightly and she knew that a school, mostly filled with SHIELD’s greatest intellectual minds, was ill-prepared to handle a beast of that nature. She pictured carnage beyond reason and she knew, thinking back to the MO of the thief, that their time to find the artifact intact was running dangerously short. 

“We need to find that artifact.” Helena breathed out, placing the tablet down on the broken display case, and she briskly ran from the room, the others not far behind. Helena allowed the amulet to guide her along the trace of the magic, her body instinctually following along down the maze-like halls and into a glass hall through the lobby of the building. The others were not far behind her and noticed when she abruptly skidded to a stop, standing and staring out into the lobby. Helena’s eyes desperately searched for the artifact, but a scream slicing through the air told her she was too late. Smoke poured up from the middle of the lobby Through the people running frantically, Helena spotted the beast unlocked by accessing the artifact. The creature was all sinew and muscle, unnatural for the lion body. A deformed, withered human face was framed by an unruly and matted mane and a piercing tail embedded by spines. The deep sunken eyes of the beast narrowed and it unleashed a roar, causing those nearby to scramble. Helena felt her breath catch and a curse nearly escaping her. The fears of the ancient world combined into one feral beast; a spiked tail of a scorpion, sharp and bloodstained claws from a lion, and a haunting human face that made Greek and Persian warriors break into a cold sweat. The manticore was on the loose.

The beast scanned the perimeter and roared while various agents scrambled out of the way of danger. Some faculty agents took cover and emptied clips of bullets into the hide of the manticore with little to no effect on it. The shots served to anger the manticore and its eyes narrowed with bloodlust tainting them. Stopping the beast would be impossible for any mortal person, meaning Helena needed to lend her assistance. And she wanted to minimize the damage that occurred and so, she knew what she needed to do.

“Steve, Natasha, Clint, you guys need to clear as many agents out of the base as you can without entering the manticore’s notice. That beast will tear a person to ribbons and a single hit from the spikes along its tail will instantly kill; they’re poisoned and even a graze will infect the bloodstream.” Helena explained, knowing that the luxury of time wasn’t on their side to give better reasoning as to why they should stay out of the fray. They were heroes; she understood that. But Helena knew she needed to handle this alone. She would be beside herself if one of them were injured or worse when she could have handled it. She would not be responsible for the death of another she grew to care for. There were one too many of those.

“What about you?” Natasha asked from the end of the hallway when she noticed Helena staring intently out at the manticore. She knew Helena could fight, but that beast was something else entirely and Helena appeared fearful of it. Her eyes were not cold and detached before she grasped at her amulet and the glow consumed her body in white, covering her in her armor and mask.

“I’m going to take it on,” Helena remarked before hitting the deck as one of the barbs from the manticore’s tail shattered the glass she stood behind in a shower of shards. Helena scrambled onto her feet while summoning a glowing, round shield and her trademark sword. She tucked her body behind the shield and slammed the sword against it, drawing the sharp clang of metal on mental to hone the manticore’s focus on her. The manticore snarled as its eyes settled on Helena menacingly emerging from the hole blasted through the glass.

“May the All-Father forgive your transgressions,” She whispered when her eyes blanked out in emotionless gold and she launched at the beast with a battle cry urgently ripping from her throat. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Tumblr (@queen-kass-the-writer) for additional content on Helena, Eprana, the Isle of Destiny, or the story in general! Please leave a kudos/comment if you enjoyed the series.


	5. Ascension

Twirling her blade, Helena pointed the tip at the manticore, and a flint of light launched from the sword. The light, acting with the sharpness of a dagger and the heat of a thousand suns, marred the manticore’s lion hide with a scathing burn. The manticore wailed and the tail, one of a scorpion, lashed toward Helena. Instinct kicked into high gear when one of the manticore’s poisoned barbs whizzed by her head, deflected by the flat of Helena’s blade. She focused the eyes of the manticore onto her and hoped that Steve, Clint, and Natasha could safely evacuate the student body, faculty, and all others from within the facility.

“I refuse this to be where I die-” Helena murmured when she tucked her body behind her round shield, blocking another barb aiming for her heart. The manticore roared and the strength shook the ground beneath its clawed paws. The humanoid face contorted into a blind rage at Helena’s intrusion and the growl that followed promised Helena a world of pain and revenge. From what Helena knew, the manticore possessed advanced sentience among beastly creatures and could plan, strategize one’s demise. Therefore, she would have to keep on her guard. Battle was much like playing chess—only the stakes were infinitely higher and the risk for bodily harm tenfold. The manticore would not succumb to its enraged state, unlike other beasts, which meant Helena would have to submit it by sheer force. Easy to say, harder to execute when the manticore had very few weaknesses.

Helena deflected another barb with a strangled breath caught in her chest for how close it came to grazing her armor. Even a prick of her skin would send the poison tainting her blood with deadly accuracy. Therefore, she would refuse to let it touch her armor. Too close for comfort was still too close. Her best solution to take down the manticore came in the form of a two-pronged approach: disable the tail and submit the beast, either through rendering it unable to fight or killing it. Thus began the aggravating cat and mouse game between Helena and the manticore. Helena determined that she needed to get in close and the manticore seemed adamant to keep her from doing so.

Each time Helena would attempt to advance closer, the manticore would lash out. Helena shield took a battering from claw marks, barbs, and the pincer of the tail in equal strides. She would barely roll out of the way when the tail came slamming down into the tiles. The marble cracked under the pressure and the manticore roared, infuriated by Helena’s resistance and will to not only live but emerge victorious. Helena lifted her blade parallel to the ground and when her eyes flashed, she slashed an arc through the air. Where the sword touched, several crystals of light formed in the same shape as the tail barbs. The mirrored barbs pulsated with light and heat as they were released all at once. Each barb landed on the manticore, piercing through the manticore’s hide. Where bullets failed, light magic would always beat back the darkness. Thus, began several volleys of barbs exchanged between Helena and the manticore with Helena dodging them at every turn with the manticore dripping black and gold, ichor mixed with the handiwork of black magic that formed the beast.

Hidden behind an opaque side tunnel made of glass, Steve gestured to the students and faculty that Natasha picked to be the next group to slip through the tunnels. The other had collapsed and the most direct exit was through the lobby, where Helena and the manticore were throwing down as evidenced by the enraged roars. When a barb broke through the glass and nearly struck a gaggle of frightened agents, Steve threw his body between the barb and them. The barb clattered harmlessly against the vibranium of his shield and he glanced over his shoulder at the students cowering behind him.

“Go! Hawkeye is waiting at the end of the hall to escorting you out of the building.” Steve informed and the students, following his directive, raced to the end of the hall. Steve felt himself breathing heavily from how quickly he reacted, knowing that his limitation still crept up on him. He, Natasha, and Clint couldn’t safely escort all the students at one time unless they wanted to start a stampede, which would clearly draw the attention of the beast. He overheard Helena describe it as a manticore, but Steve didn’t care if it was a manticore, minotaur, or something else entirely. What he knew is that it was dangerous, and he was concerned by Helena’s reaction, even though he knew she could handle herself. To satiate his concern for Helena’s well-being, Steve peered through the new hole blasted through the shattered glass for a glimpse of Helena and the manticore. He knew that if she was struggling to hold the beast back, he would be overcome by the urge to throw himself into the fray.

In the center of the ruined lobby, Helena nimbly deflected the barbs the manticore released in rapid, overwhelming succession with her glimmering, radiant sword. Her hair whipped around her face and she smoldered in power. It was the most entrancing thing Steve had ever seen. His eyes were glued onto Helena amid battle that he nearly missed the next batch of agents heading his way for safe passage out of the building. With flushed cheeks and at a loss for words, Steve waved for the frightened agents to move through and he stood between them and the gaping hole with his shield at the ready should another barb dangerously ricochet.

Helena was gradually gaining ground on the manticore when she noticed the beast edging away from her instead of using its tail to stop her impending advance. Staring into its eyes, Helena saw fear—something she could and would capitalize on. She turned to defense and weaved nimbly across the tile, blocking with her shield. The manticore would volley more barbs at her, failing to realize the once vast arsenal had dwindled to nothing. Her opportunity to win was increasing, but she still needed to get close. Helena played to her defense while she poured energy into her sword, feeling the hilt burn white-hot from the power surging from her body and into the sword. With the strength of the compounded magic steadily growing, the sword channeled blinding white energy and the manticore averted its eyes out of pain.

Steve, on the sidelines, watched Helena revert from a brazen offensive approach to defense in mere seconds. And while he found her combative skill awe-inspiring, Steve refused to turn his gaze from her. He was downright intoxicated on the sight of Helena in battle, finding himself curiously and conflictingly unable to move from his station. The pincer of the tail lunged and recoiled when it harmlessly bounced off Helena’s shield. The manticore repeated the action, but this time, Helena slashed her sword. The odor of burnt flesh and the unnerving sizzle filled the room. The manticore jerked back with a wail escaping it at the sight of its tail severed from its body and lying on the ground. Helena twirled the sword and she narrowed her eyes at the manticore; playtime was over now. The field was now evened out with the manticore’s primary weapon indisposed permanently. Steve felt his chest heave with the breath he didn’t realize he was holding in and the color returned to his cheeks in a warm, embarrassed flush.

The manticore reared onto its hind legs and came thundering down with its piercing, deadly claws and Helena ducked underneath the shield. The sound of metal scraping against metal rang in her ears and she grimaced, but the shield held under the pressure. With the manticore pushing all its weight onto her, Helena grit her jaw and shoved with all her might—sending the manticore toppling over and rolling onto its side. Helena dissolved her shield and flung her sword across the lobby. She watched the blade lodge hilt deep into the manticore’s side, effectively impaling the beast. Helena sprinted over to the manticore with the intent to retrieve her sword as forging another one would severely deplete her magical reserves, but the manticore blindly swung at her with its claws bared. Helena ducked underneath the claws aimed for her throat, rolled forward, and used the sword to vault onto the manticore’s back. She grappled with the manticore, sinking her fingers into its auburn mane and yanking when the manticore reared up on its hind legs. The beast thrashed and threw itself around, hoping to crush Helena in the process. Helena, however, would not let that happen. She wrapped both her arms around the manticore’s bulky, unseemly neck in a modified chokehold she learned during her formative training years and squeezed. The manticore continued to buck unpredictably, crashing into scattered objects and stumbling around in a rage-drunk stupor. Helena squeezed her eyes when the manticore reared onto its hind legs and crushed the throat between her hands. The echo of a sickening crunch thundered throughout the room after a moment of struggle.

Steve watched as the manticore’s eyes rolled back and the beast thunderously slumped against the floor, unmoving and unbreathing. Still straddling its back and breathing hard, Helena hesitantly dismounted to one side before she pulled the sword from the belly of the beast. She shakily took a knee as the manticore’s carcass melted away into dust, which an invisible wind swept out of existence. Steve dropped his shield and he watched Helena with some obvious concern. She had conquered the beast without any help whatsoever.

Most of the student body had yet to be evacuated and witnessed the fight from around the glass spiral surrounding the lobby. None of them had seen an Avenger fight up close and although Helena was not a technical Avenger as far as they knew, she was still awe-inspiring. She radiated unfathomable power, something distinctly not human. Warmth seeped through the glass and surrounded the frightened potentials in an intoxicating sense of comfort. The way she battled the manticore and wrestled the beast to the death between her bare hands—some were afraid while others were entertained.

Helena rose from her crouched position and glanced around the spiral, feeling the eyes on her. She dropped her gaze back down to Earth and wrapped her fingers around her amulet, searching for an energy signature. Her amulet went crazy for the northern quadrant of the lobby and she briskly walked across the trashed lobby in search of the crystal. The manticore might be dead, but the artifact might contain more information about whoever broke into the Academy. With the imminent danger gone, the other Avengers filtered back into the lobby and assessed the damage. Steve crossed the distance to reach Helena and he wordlessly regrouped by her side. He missed her sneaking a glance at him through her peripheral with her eyes still tinted solid gold. He and the others were unharmed, and the students were no longer in danger, a fact that softened her demeanor. The walls dropped to reveal her eyes, human but golden.

“Were there any injuries? Any fatalities?” Helena inquiringly whispered to Steve, muffled behind the cover of her mask to where Steve leaned in to hear her better. His eyes met hers for a moment before she scanned the perimeter for any sign of the crystal. 

“Nothing major for injuries,” Steve informed her, which greatly relieved her. Minor injuries would heal and lives were saved by quick, undeterred intervention. She nodded in response, maintaining her bearing. He strapped his shield onto his back and he clapped Helena on the shoulder, “Solstice- Helena, you are a hero.”

“Thank you, Captain.” Behind the mask, Helena allowed herself to smile as no one could see her or the way her cheeks burned from the compliment. She shook her head and narrowed her eyes when she noticed something catch the light through the windows toward the top of the building, which were shattered at some point during the fight. Helena leaned down and she brushed through the debris to find the crystal, the runes no longer glowing in the ominous red. The crystal felt lifeless, dull, and cold—unusual for an artifact. She closed her eyes and tried to snuff out a trace of the thief or their signature. Alas, the trail was predictably and infuriatingly cold as Helena feared it would be. She stared at the crystal sitting in her open palm and she saw no reason to leave a vessel lying around for someone who happened to possess the power to use it to stumble upon it. Closing her hand around the crystal, Steve watched as she gave a squeeze and a muted crunch could be heard. When she tilted her palm sideways and opened it, finely powdered dust tumbled. The crystal was destroyed, as was the manticore. And with no identifiable trace linking back to the thief, who was likely in the wind, Helena was back at square one. Helena groaned and she stood back to her full height, trying to look on the positives.

Yes, the thief escaped… for now. But Helena knew that they would resurface sooner or later, aware that the thief’s sense of invulnerability and arrogance would convince them to strike with a bolder move. And with the thief crossing SHIELD, they were on the radar.

“Why did you destroy the crystal?” Clint inquired, clearly confused without needing his dark sunglasses removed to reveal his eyes. Helena brushed her hands clean of the shattered crystal and she suppressed a shiver from the taint of dark magic lingering in the air around them.

“Because it served no purpose. With the manticore released from its prison and no traceable link to the thief left on it, the crystal had no positive benefits to contribute. I say positive because the crystal harbored the capabilities for dark magic and revival of the beast should a powerful sorcerer or any specialized practitioner of the dark arts stumble across it. And the number of those individuals is higher than desirable-” Helena replied quietly when Natasha interrupted her with the clearing of her throat.

“As enlightening as this conversation might become, we have Fury incoming,” Natasha remarked and Helena abruptly shelved that conversation for a later time. She knew that her experiences with magic would undoubtedly end up being a point of questioning at a later time. Emerging from one of the holes in the glass, Fury navigated around the glass shards, broken objects, and spots of blood the manticore dropped along the cracked tiles. Maria Hill was not far behind him, looking as composed as ever with her signature earpiece and power suit. Fury surveyed the damage of the Academy and the lack of damage to Helena. She appeared untouched, unharmed, and unbothered, being minorly out of breath at the most. He saw the way Helena darted into danger and delegated the work but actively protected the others. Fury could see that the Avengers he chose trusted her enough to gamble with their lives and the lives of all those

“I think we should have another discussion, Solstice.” Fury remarked, making a statement rather than a question. After only an hour or so of knowing Director Nick Fury, Helena would safely assume that was a habit of his. He was the big man around, the puppeteer that held all the strings in his hands and Helena knew there would be no avoiding the conversation. Nor would she want to. She believed that she would be receiving her end of the bargain she and Fury struck back at the tower. She held up her side, which meant she knew what would come next.

That we shall, but-” Helena interrupted herself with a clear caveat coming attached to her agreement. She glanced back at Steve, Natasha, and Clint with Steve lending her an encouraging smile and Natasha glancing back at Fury in glee as she figured out what Helena was planning on proposing. “-This time, I want the others there.” She nodded to those of the Avengers that were present, and her words indicated that she wanted those not present to be included. If she was to be a member of their team, Helena needed unified assent as to her joining because a team divided was no use to the world. Fury gave a look of protest, but Helena didn’t rescind her request and willed herself to stay strong. Her nature was often one that bent to accommodate others and their needs, but she had to remain confident in what she wanted, for she knew this was the best option.

“They may tag along.” Fury agreed after a wordless discussion ensued between him and Maria for several seconds. The two merely stared at each other and came to a mutual, quick consensus without exchanging words or glancing at the spectators witnessing the whole spectacle with astonishment. Not wanting to question her victory, Helena bit down on her tongue to avoid saying something stupid or making things awkward—a painfully frequent tendency of hers. She, along with the others, walked behind Fury and Maria in a single file line. The Avengers exited the trashed lobby and headed through the school. With the crisis averted, Helena soaked in the mix of rich architecture reminiscent of a fancy boarding school and a high-tech laboratory. There were students filtering back into the halls but parted off to the side to watch Helena pass by. They stared into the eyes of their savior who stared blankly ahead, but her stance relaxed to something resembling kindness, the closest word to describe the soft, protective aura she gave off when not wrestling giant lion monsters or fighting off giant dragon creatures.

The select Avengers and Fury stepped into Director Anne Weaver’s, the Director of the Academy, personal study and Fury set up the holographic display to dial the Council, a board of SHIELD leaders intended to make the institution more democratic in decision-making. Fury considered them more of a nuisance than anything else that brought bureaucratic red tape and stupid decisions as their primary contributions. Within a few minutes, all the members of the board were on the screen under their cloaks of shadows obscuring their faces.

“What is the meaning of this impromptu meaning, Director Fury?” A female voice questioned exasperatedly, seemingly fed up by Fury’s insubordination. Fury was walking on thin ice with the Council after what happened in New York with neither side trusting the other. It was a game of Russian roulette, except their lives weren’t the ones truly on the line—it was the lives of civilians caught in the crosshairs between the threat seeking to destroy their way of life and the only line of defense stopping that. 

“There are some new developments to the Avengers Initiative…” Fury refused the Council their dignity by flouting formalities and pretense. This was not a social call, nor was it him begging for their permission; he knew what the world needed, and he would take steps to make that change happen. While on the call with the Council, Fury used a side panel to contact the tower. Tony and Bruce appeared on the other side of the screen. Tony gave a cheeky, two-fingered salute to the others and he watched with gleeful delight at the impending smackdown between Fury and the Council. “Solstice has earned a rightful spot on the team and I believe her to be a perfect fit for the Avengers.” Fury declared and his suggestion was met by some protests, jumbled together by various voices chiming in. Adding a new Avenger was not something out of the blue in lieu of Thor’s absence from the team. Still, the Council anticipated a thoroughly-vetted, hand-selected candidate rather than an enigmatic woman who appeared mere days before and wielded power that made some concerned about her intentions.

“Director Fury, the timing of this selection is hasty and sets a worrying precedent. Being an Avenger shouldn’t be offered to every metahuman or powered being that shows up in New York without proper vetting and deliberation by the Council. The status of Avenger requires a certain level of worthiness-” The shadowy figure in the center, which Natasha and Clint knew by the sound of his voice, lectured but Fury would not hear it. If Pierce thought he knew better, then Fury would like to see him assemble a team even half as good.

“I have a building filled with agents willing to attest to her worthiness, Council.” Fury interrupted and held his hand up to them, signaling that he would not be talked down. He knew what he was doing like he did in the Battle of New York. This instance wasn’t the first time he blatantly, openly defied the Council and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Fury manipulated the screens and holographic clips of Helena fighting the drakon played on the news and some of the security footage of her subduing the manticore solo. The Council watched on as the clips played in full. While watching the footage of herself, Helena felt Steve beside her shuffle and his hand gave a comforting pat along the small of her back—an unspoken assurance that the others were behind her. The team had embraced her as one of their own and Helena, believing her path to be guided by destiny’s hand, refused to let anyone or anything stand in her way.

“Director Fury, you cannot just-” Another protest came but Fury was no longer tolerating the incessant complaining of the Council. They were the ones too removed from the lives they were supposed to protect that the entire island of Manhattan was acceptable collateral damage for them to accept.

“I will not be talked down. You are insistent on not hearing me out, but what about what Solstice herself might have to say?” Fury declared, which earned the reluctant silence of the Council. They were interested in what defense or reasoning Solstice might provide to convince them to change their minds.

“Very well, Director Fury.” The head of the Council agreed to end the standstill between his cohorts and an insubordinate Fury. None of the Council seemed particularly pleased by including this dangerous, unknown interloper into their ranks without knowing more about her. There was the bare minimum about her on file, a feat that would put Agent Romanoff and Barton’s records to shame. She was powerful, yes. But some among the Council believed her to be a threat rather than an asset. Fury, however, would hear none of it. He assembled the Avengers Initiative and he knew what it might need. Helena bravely stepped forward and into the view of the Council, taking in the shadowy figures who wanted to decide her fate. She pulled down the mask around her mouth and changed her eyes to humanoid eyes once more, reminding her that she was still partly human.

“Good afternoon, Council. I could deliver you a thousand assurances that I mean Earth and humanity no harm, even though my actions should portray that already. I don’t blame you for being cautious, but I do protest to the gross misjudgment of my character and ability. You talk about me with no regard for the err in your logic and the gaps in your knowledge. You fear the unknown, so you tried to fill in the blanks. Let me enlighten them with an illuminating truth. I am not some naïve, inexperienced girl playing dress-up or pretend. I am a warrior, by blood and heritage and soul. I trained for a decade, the same amount of time as many of the Avengers. I take the safety of Earth seriously as I swore to do. I follow a higher power and their edict of peace for a world in an invisible war with the demons that lurk in the shadows. I do not see any reason that I should abandon that directive because of the baseless protest or uncertainty of my loyalties. Should I seek to harm humanity, wouldn’t I have already burned it to the ground by now? When faced with opportunities to save people, I have never turned my back on those in need. Those are the qualities of the Avengers—they protect those who cannot protect themselves from threats beyond mortal imagination. Perhaps you fail to see the bigger picture now, but I guarantee that the Battle of New York opened your eyes to what you don’t know. Your aim is to keep humanity safe? Then don’t destroy it by feeding into your fear, prejudice, or ignorance. I was brought here by divine guidance. The Avengers know it, Director Fury knows it, and I believe that you know it as well.” Helena dragged her eyes across the shadows covering their faces. Although she could not see them, they could see her. Her tone was gentle, but softness was not a weakness.

“Any objections?” Fury questioned and the Council was pointedly silent, demonstrating that for all their talk of action, they had little to contribute in follow-through. Helena stared at each one of the Council members in unblinking, frightening gold. Leaving the Council to mull over her words, Helena turned to face Director Fury and she raised her hand. She swore an oath to be a Guardian and she would swear another to assume the mantle of Avenger.

Helena cleared her throat and declared, “I, Solstice, volunteer of my own free will to serve the Avengers Initiative.” With the oath completed and witnessed, the Council could not negate her appointment to the team, nor would they argue. If anything, the presence of dark magic and mythological threats required sophisticated knowledge and someone with experience to stop them. Solstice fit the bill through and through, which none of the dissenters could argue against. The Council disappeared from the screen and Fury turned to Maria Hill, the two discussing something without the presence of words ever being involved. Sensing her powers beginning to exhaust her, Helena grabbed her amulet from where it rested against her chest and the light washed over her form. When she returned to her mortal form, she no longer appeared dressed as a goddess as she did the first time. Instead, she wore a pair of sweatpants and an oversized sweatshirt. The pants were Nat’s since the two women were relatively close in size and the sweater belonged to Steve as he offered it to her when Helena admitted she was cold. She managed a weary smile at everyone, trying not to let her exhaustion show through. She turned to Director Fury and stared at him expectantly as the rest of the Avengers watched on.

“Welcome to SHIELD, Solstice… you are the newest Avenger.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Tumblr (@queen-kass-the-writer) for additional content on Helena, Eprana, the Isle of Destiny, or the story in general! Please leave a kudos/comment if you enjoyed the series.


	6. Labyrinth

Two months after the swearing-in, Helena had grown accustomed to life in the tower while the prestige of being an official Avenger had yet to wear off. There were minor instances across the globe of superpowered villains and enemies of SHIELD causing havoc, which Helena was included in putting down. Her increased visibility led to a rise in her profile and Solstice was the name on everybody’s lips. People had questioned about the hot new superwoman in town, but those questions would hardly be answered beyond the bare minimum.

When Helena wasn’t out fighting crime, she spent her time in New York and the tower. She devoured through a whole library’s worth of books, caught up on the decade of culture she missed while on Eprana, training to keep her combat skills sharp, and making connections on the civilian side of things. Being Solstice wasn’t a twenty-four/seven kind of deal since the mask came off when the danger was handled. As Helena, she volunteered her time in soup kitchens, forged an identity for herself outside of the Solstice persona—as hard as that might be with her past.

Helena paced the floor of the newly finished tower gym from the deep blue padded mats to the enclosed shooting range (for arrows and firearms), to the indoor pool. Most of the space was reserved for fighting simulations that could be controlled from a small control room or sparring. She wore flexible mortal clothes instead of her armor as a practical choice and her blue eyes sparkled with excitement. She was waiting for a certain someone to join her as they were slated to practice together. The familiar whoosh open of the automatic doors alerted Helena that Steve had arrived and that was confirmed when she caught sight of him with a gym bag slung over his shoulders.

“Steve! You’re here!” Helena exclaimed cheerily as Steve dropped his bag at the edge of the mats, a boyish, all-American smile lighting up his features. Helena liked seeing a more casual side of Steve, thinking he should smile more often. The thought made her cheeks warm into a rosy pink, which she tried to temper down.

“I hope you’re ready, Sol,” Steve remarked, affectionately tossing in the nickname he gave to Helena. It slipped out during a battle one day and Helena took quite the liking to it. So, Steve adopted the nickname for Helena on and off the battlefield. Helena got along well with the others for her cheerful, kind personality, but her bond with Steve was on another level; she trusted him unequivocally and he often spent time in her company. The others noticed the close bond of companionship the two forged, kindred spirits drawn together by chance. Helena nodded, eager to learn from Steve. Her reaction earned a clap of his hands and him pulling out some items from inside his bag: gloves, Thai boxing pads, and hand wraps. “Alright, let me help you with your hands?” Steve offered to her, seeing her knuckles bare and in need of a proper wrapping.

“Yes please,” Helena softly confirmed when she finished tying her hair back into a ponytail. Steve grinned at her and gestured for her to hold her hands out. In his hands were a pair of white hand wraps that matched the ones he wore. Helena placed both hands in front of Steve and watched him as he taped up her hands with the white cloth. Steve deftly wove the wrapping around her knuckles and between her fingers as he had done for himself many times before. When Helena asked him to spar with her or teach her some “modern” martial arts, he was happy to oblige.

“Alright, you should be ready to go,” Steve remarked once he finished wrapping Helena’s other hand with an efficient speed but gentle touch. He leaned down to pick up his wraps and prepared his hands. His hair fell free from his slicked back, Army-regulation style and the dark blond hairs that escaped hung over his eyes. He seemed unbothered by it as he began to wrap his hands.

“Thank you,” Helena whispered with the wraps and she cracked her neck, hearing the satisfying pop in her ears. She did the other side, her doe-like eyes watching Steve wrapping his hands faster than he did with her. The action was so mesmerizing yet so simple, but Helena was transfixed on Steve. He tucked his white t-shirt into the waistband of his pants and glanced over at Helena.

“Don’t even worry about it. I think Tony will thank us for not ruining all his equipment.” Steve chuckled, knowing another reason that Helena asked him to spar was that she had destroyed nearly ten heavy bags in a single training session because she kept “accidentally” punching holes through them. So used to fighting with gods and creatures of myth, Helena shied away from fighting humans for fear she might unintentionally kill. Her training of the sword taught her the thin line between strength and mercy, life and death. But disarm her of her weapons and Helena had no clue what kind of danger she possessed.

Steve was the only Avenger who could match her strength while still retaining his human capabilities, which made him the perfect sparring partner. That, and he was overwhelmingly willing to spend the extra time with her.

“Perhaps,” Helena stifled a giggle behind her hand, her eyes sparkling. She scrunched up her nose when trying to pull herself together, which only made it harder for Steve to keep a straight face. He eventually composed himself enough to start his lesson and Helena composed herself once the giggling died down.

“So, we should start with the basics. How much do you know?” Steve inquired, wanting to know where they should begin. He didn’t want to assume Helena knew more or less than she did because that would be counterproductive for both.

“Not much. Most of my training was in swordplay and any marital skill relies more on a grappling and submission.” Helena shyly explained, feeling self-conscious about her hand-to-hand combat skills, or lack thereof. She saw how Steve, Natasha, and Clint were expert fighters and she had the sinking suspicion that without her sword and shield, she might discover herself at a significant disadvantage. Without magic, she relied heavily on her swordsmanship, but that would never fully be enough. Steve nodded, seeing nothing wrong with starting from scratch for Helena. They all started somewhere.

“Then, we start with the basics.” Steve decided as he modeled a standard boxer’s fighting stance, left foot forward with the right foot back and the body turned to the side. He brought his hands up to his face in curled fists. Helena followed his lead and copied the stance, which was relatively simplistic if she was honest. Steve dropped his fighter’s guard and assessed Helena’s form. She grasped it quickly and only needed some minor adjustments, which he could fix. His hands reached out to grab her, but as his fingers brushed against her waist, he retracted his hands. His face flushed brightly and he coughed, trying to reign in the red of his cheeks. “Uh… permission to touch?” He asked, somewhat sheepishly.

“Hmmm? Oh! Yes, you may.” Helena stammered over her words like a fool, cursing herself for getting distracted already. She needed to keep the focus on what Steve was teaching her, and she was determined to improve her hand-to-hand skills. Steve, with consented permission, placed his hands on her hips and fixed the angle of her hips with a quick adjustment under his confident hands. He had been in many fights in his life, some of which he lost. The things he learned came through the school of hard knocks, through blood and sweat and tears.

“This is what is known as a fighting stance. The positioning is indicative of your dominant hand being in the back for power strikes. As you are a right-hand dominant, your left foot is forward. If you switched, that would be called southpaw.” Steve whispered from slightly behind her, his voice low in her ear. He pushed Helena’s shoulder back to where it pressed into his chest, which made Helena want to mumble an apology. Steve raised her hands a little higher to where they would sufficiently cover her face while protecting the soft tissue targets of her abdomen. Steve gave a little hum while sorting out the perfect adjustment, sharing with Helena what he knew. “The reason your hands should find the middle ground between blocking your face or only your body is that leaving one of these places too exposed is asking to be hit,” Steve informed and Helena nodded, absorbing as much as she could.

“I- I understand.” Helena stated, finding it hard to talk. She swallowed back the urge to ramble from sheer nerves. Steve made minor adjustments to her form on occasion, his hands lingering nearby to correct any beginner mistakes. Helena adapted to his instruction without any struggles or mistakes; his teaching style aligning with what she needed in direction. She spent many years learning through harsh instruction and her mistakes, so having someone doing the opposite made Helena feel better suited to learn.

“Okay, so there are four basic punches in boxing and these translate to every other martial art: jab, cross, hook, and uppercut.” Steve remarked and proceeded to move Helena’s body in accordance with each punch type to demonstrate. She remained loose and fluid, making her easy to move. Once Steve was sure that Helena confidently understood them, he watched her practicing shadow boxing combination drills. He studied her with crossed arms, but the hint of a smile directed at her. Helena was excelling; she focused on speed and fluidity of movement since Steve knew she could bust through steel with a punch should she desire to do so.

“I think I’m getting the hang of this!” Helena cheerily declared between Steve’s guidance and dwindling minor adjustments. Helena felt her confidence skyrocket after every successful punch where Steve made no fixes to her form or technique. She lost count of how many times she repeated the punches, but the burn inching across her muscles suggested she had done so for quite a while. “How would you say I’m doing, Captain?”

“Perfect, as I expected you would. Unless you want more practice, we can move onto the application phase.” Steve remarked and he strapped on the hand pads before clapping them together twice, signaling that he was ready for her. Helena bounced on her heels and shook out her body, keeping herself loose as she remembered learning years before. She grinned at Steve, watching him hold up the pads and calling a numbered combo. She struggled to remember which number coincided with which punch, but she gradually became faster and avoid mistakes. When Steve threw in a small, pretend punch of his own, Helena instinctually dodged the counterattack by parrying his hand like she would a rival sword. Steve couldn’t help the proud grin that came as a result of her quick-thinking. Helena dropped her hands with a bashful, pleading gleam in her eyes.

“Can we try something? If you’re up to it, I would love to try some sparring.” Helena requested sweetly and Steve nodded after some consideration. He deemed her ready to attempt that next step. Besides, she would learn the most through her mistakes and it would be better she made them here, between the two of them and in the safety of the Avengers gym, rather than in the heat of battle where she could be harmed. Steve couldn’t imagine how he would feel if Helena got hurt because of a negligent oversight on his part, so he would never let that happen if he could help it.

“A great idea.” Steve complimented, which made Helena feel a small inkling of pride. She was humbled by Steve’s kindness and willingness to humor her. Steve discarded the pads off to the side and out of their way, prepared to get even more hands-on with Helena’s training. Steve and Helena circled around each other on the mat, both clearly ready to strike and throw the first punch. Steve chuckled at Helena, trying to keep a fierce resting face but failing miserably with him. The sight was so Helena. The waiting game grating on her, Helena threw a lightning-fast punch at Steve, which he dodged. He hummed in appreciation, seeing that Helena would give him a challenge. The two exchanged back and forth blows that fit into an undeterred, organic rhythm with plenty of defensive play. Although Helena was excellent, Steve was better. He had the reach, training, and speed advantaged, which meant Helena spent most of her time dodging. She mostly parried his hits while he avoided hers, but she tuned into her natural instincts from time to time. That resulted in her picking up more complex defenses, such as slips and ducks. After a lengthy exchange, Helena ducked underneath a punch and marveled about feeling the air whizz by her cheek with a rush of adrenaline. Without even thinking, Helena lashed out with her foot and swept Steve’s feet out from underneath him. Steve’s back slammed against the mat and the wind was knocked out of him since he wasn’t expecting that. His mistake really; in battle, an enemy would never hold their punches back and neither should they.

“I thought you could do this all day,” Helena softly whispered while dropping her hands from their guard. Her cheeky quotation of Steve was a small jab to her sneaky, underhanded take-down that made him immensely proud and intrigued. Helena had more fight in her than her soft-spoken, kindly attitude insinuated.

“Oh, you are going to answer for that one.” Steve chuckled and rubbed at his jaw, pushing himself off the ground and onto his feet in a fluid motion. Helena gave a skittish giggle and evaded his eyes, but the alarm sounded through the tower before they could resume. Steve dropped the pads down as Helena raced out of the room, and he followed her. They ran into the main room, side by side, to see Tony and Bruce already there with Natasha and Clint’s trackers indicating that they were on their way and would meet the others at the sight of the issue.

“Tony, what’s going on?” Steve inquired and if Tony had an answer, he would have given it to him. There was a spike in energy with the epicenter around Central Park, but the alerts only sensed a disturbance without anything being there.

“JARVIS, give me a visual,” Tony demanded to the sentient software, wanting to see what was happening to trigger the blaring alarms.

“Right away, sir.” JARVIS hummed and the holographic screens cut to a visual of Central Park where obsidian, shimmering series of walls emerged from the ground. The walls built themselves from thin air and raised up to ten feet high.

“What the hell is that?” Bruce questioned, removing his wire-rimmed glasses in sheer disbelief at what he was seeing. Steve and Tony observed in silence as the maze settled onto the grounds of Central Park without destroying anything beneath it. It flickered and glinted under the sunlight, which interested them. Was it real or an illusion? Could it be both?

“The labyrinth,” Helena whispered, and all heads snapped toward her, understanding that she knew what threat awaited them. She reached for the holographic image of the labyrinth and zoomed in as she saw Tony do countless times before. She tilted her head to the side, “JARVIS, please pull up a search for the labyrinth.”

“Right away, Solstice.” JARVIS activated at Helena’s command, a newly installed feature that made the tower less of Stark and more of the Avengers as a collective. Although, Tony put his Stark flare on things with everyone forced to register under his ridiculous nickname for them when logging into the system. Emergency situations were the one and only exception. A search generated thousands of images and results upon her request and Helena leaned casually against the holographic table.

“In Ancient Greece, the labyrinth was created by an ingenious inventor Daedalus with one sole purpose: to house a fearsome monster. The beast was half-man, half-bull and born from the cursed, unholy union between the Queen of Crete and a sacrificial bull meant for Poseidon.” Helena summarized a cursory preview for a beast that should need no introduction for those who studied the classics in any capacity.

“-The Minotaur” Bruce filled in, knowing where she was going with the story. He remembered this myth about the half-man, half-bull beast with a propensity for human flesh and insatiable hunger that required a maze to trap it in. A picture of the Minotaur flashed onto the screen—the unsightly mixture of man and beast.

“Yes, so one might assume the Minotaur is the threat lurking in the shadows of the labyrinth. The only problem with that is that the Minotaur is supposed to be dead. Once a beast has been slain, most of them stay dead. However, people could respawn a monster using dark magics such as necromancy and blood manipulation. Still, the summoning of such a notorious beast would have generated a magical signature that would have alerted me, one equivalent to dropping a hydrogen bomb.” Helena explained to the others and she noted the mirage hanging above all four sides of the labyrinth and projecting darkness—for the moment. She knew, deep in her heart, who was behind this elaborate stunt: the thief. They had been too quiet for too long and this seemed painfully like a taunt after Helena nearly caught them around three weeks ago.

“How do you know it was killed?” Steve asked her, sensing there was a story behind her confidence.

“Because my father killed it years ago.” Helena replied, making the other Avengers gawk at her; they still occasionally forgot that she came from a long lineage of monster killers and godly warriors. In truth, she never heard the tale from her father’s lips. She heard it from Nixtia, the patron goddess of warriors, and relished the story with everything she had. She once idolized her father and that never stopped when she assumed the role of being his successor. Everything she did as a Guardian and as an Avenger, she did to make him proud.

“Well, I say that means there is no time to waste. Suit up, Cap.” Tony declared, and Steve nodded, running to grab one of the new suits Tony had designed. In his spare time, Tony worked on expanding his collection of Iron Man armor but experimenting with designs for the others. Helena turned to Tony and Bruce with a determined look in her eye.

“I’ll meet you there,” Helena remarked, deciding that she shouldn’t wait around. She needed to figure out what exactly awaited them within the black walls of the labyrinth sprawling through Central Park.

“How are you going to get there?” Bruce inquired, knowing that she tended to tag along with Steve to get to the scene. The target was too close for a quinjet but not close enough for Helena to walk there, unaccompanied.

“I think it’s a nice day outside for a little flight.” Helena sweetly smiled as she walked onto the balcony, the light washing over her from her amulet and changing her attire. Her eyes flared in piercing gold as her ivory and golden accented armor settled back onto her body, encasing her in an aura of power. Helena composed herself with a breath and gave herself a running start toward the edge, diving off the side of Avengers Tower. She confidently plummeted toward the busy Manhattan streets below her before she actively guided her path. She had been tapping into some of her powers, the ones she rarely used, to strengthen her magic. She soared toward Central Park, where she could see the labyrinth from her bird’s eye view and thousands upon thousands of feet away. Her amulet went crazy from against her neck and that spurred her flight faster as she grew closer and closer. Once over the park, she took a sharp nosedive down and heard the chatter through the ringing in her ears. Upon touching solid ground, a pair of wings flared from her back before disappearing—drawing the awed gasps from the crowd surrounding the maze. Helena rose from her crouched position and gave an assuring look to civilians and the line of police keeping them back from the labyrinth. Her presence signaled to those watching on that things would be alright with the Avengers on the way.

Helena turned at the sound of a motorcycle engine and the crowd parted out of the way as Natasha drove onto the park and parked her bike at the opening of the labyrinth. She and Clint both dismounted and met up with Helena, eyeing the labyrinth in astonishment.

“Care to fill us in?” Natasha asked and the others trickled in within mere minutes of each other and Helena wanted all of them there before she gave the debrief. While waiting, Helena used her amulet to determine what they might be facing. Unfortunately, the signature didn’t belong to the Minotaur but another beast entirely. It was older, darker, and much more dangerous from what she could discern.

“It’s not the Minotaur, which means we could be walking into the newfound den of another monster. The labyrinth without the Minotaur…unsettling. To brave the labyrinth, we need to-” Helena sprinted through a proper explanation but was disrupted by the frightened murmurs of their captivated audience when the screens crackled, and a dark voice boomed from them. A shadowy figure lurked on the screen, swaying aimlessly but all anyone could see was the faint silhouette painted in the inky darkness. 

“Eons ago, seven of the fittest men and beautiful, unwed maidens would meet their untimely end within the walls of this maze at the hands of the Minotaur. And while tradition is grand, the Minotaur is no more. But for a beast of greater danger and renowned, I suppose six Avengers shall do as an adequate sacrifice.” The voice maniacally chuckled, eliciting audible panic from the crowd. The line of police struggled to keep them back and it was no secret the military would soon arrive on the scene. The appearance of a giant hell maze in the middle of a state park had to constitute a state emergency. Helena clenched her jaw at the thief’s boastful attitude and she channeled her energy into a tool she knew would be instrumental for her and the Avengers. They would be entering the maze.

Helena twirls her hands and light collected into her open palms, shaping into orbs. As much as it would soothe her conscious to know that the others would be safer on the outside and her alone, she needed their help. When she felt the energy reach its boiling point, Helena snapped before she flexed her hands. The light expelled to reveal twin balls of shimmering twine in the bright, illustrious shade of gold. Helena held them out for her teammates to observe in greater detail.

“These are our guides through the maze. In the original myth, Theseus received help from the Princess of Crete when she gifted him a string of twine. Those who entered the labyrinth without it would find themselves hopelessly lost among its walls and perish, either by the Minotaur’s axe or from madness. The string will keep us from getting lost and traveling down the same paths repeatedly, helping us find our way to the center of the maze where the beast will likely be. We will need them to survive,” Helena held up the shimmering twine up to the light and the Avengers admired the glow associated with Helena’s magic enveloping it.

“Helena, you’re the expert. A plan would be nice.” Tony remarked and all eyes turned to Helena’s, which made her tumultuous feelings about her opinion resurface. She didn’t like being the leader, the one everyone turned to when at a loss. The idea of shouldering their lives and responsibility for if they were harmed made her stomach violently turn. But she shoved her feelings away, buried them deep down with a tempered scowl from behind the mask. Now was not the time to be afraid; she was born to do this. 

“We use these to find our way into the heart of the maze and slay whatever beast we find. I wish I could be more helpful as to what we might be up against, but there is not much I can do. As for how to tackle the issue of the maze, as insane as it sounds, I think splitting up might be our best course of action. The labyrinth was designed to drive those trapped between its walls insane from the sheer size and the disorientation of stumbling around in the dark. There are six of us here.” Helena suggested, open to input from the group as to whether splitting up sat well with them. One of the groups was bound to run into the beast first, and they could only hope the others would not be far behind.

“That would make equal groups of three, with one ball of enchanted twine for each.” Steve configured and the group glanced at each other. The whole idea was risky, but they would cover more ground in smaller groups. Steve and Tony glanced between each other and grabbed the people standing to their left and right as their group. Helena felt Steve’s arm curl around her shoulder, and she nodded, knowing she and Steve would be paired together.

“Everyone knows the plan?” Helena inquired, wanting to establish a clear consensus before the six walked into a den of death together. She knew the risk was high, but she would never allow any of them to die when she could help it. She was loyal to her team, where her life was a second-hand consideration.

“Don’t lose the string, stay in your groups, and try not to lose our minds?” Tony ‘helpfully’ supplied, his sarcasm never a step behind.

“Those are the important points,” Clint remarked on the tail end of a snicker, trying to bring some levity to the situation they found themselves facing. Natasha quirked her brow at her long-time partner before elbowing the archer in the ribs discreetly. The Avengers broke into their two separate groups and Helena tossed Natasha the second ball of enchanted twine. Helena stood between Steve and Clint, her group of three. Natasha, Bruce, and Tony encompassed the other group of three. Both groups glanced between each other, wishing silent protection over their teammates as they prepared to venture into the dark maze. Steve led his group first into the pitch black and Helena illuminated the way with a small, self-contained flame of golden light. The string was connected to Clint, who brought up the rear for their group. The three silently treaded through the darkened corners of the twisting maze. All of them felt the unsettling presence of eyes watching them in the dark but knew that was the pressure of all those outside with their eyes glued to the sight of the Avengers bravely wandering the maze.

“He-Solstice, which of us do you think will find the maze first.” Clint inquired, filling the space and silence with his words where the discomfort slipped in. All three heroes were on their guard, teetering on edge and prepared to launch into battle at a moment’s notice. 

“I hope we do. I want to see what we’re up against and not leave the others at risk for danger.” Helena replied calmly, betraying the war of emotions rumbling around in her chest. Her body was a battlefield where the tides between control and overwhelming anxiety clashed for dominance, which could be felt each time her stomach twisted into knots or her breath caught on itself.

“That’s fair,” Clint conceded after a moment and he twirled an arrow between his fingers with trained dexterity and a small smirk reaching his lips. Helena wanted to make sure that he was adjusting to the lack of light okay and she noted small moments where he awkwardly fidgeted with the hearing aids barely poking from his ears. The dark unnerved him and that was okay; the darkness unnerved her too sometimes. The group wandered around aimlessly through the maze, watching for danger in silence and keeping an eye that they didn’t walk down a path with the golden twine looped around the corner.

Time ticked by arduously, painfully slowly as Helena, Clint, and Steve explored the maze. Their perception of time was distorted and their sense of bearing mislead. It could be minutes or hours or something aggravatingly in between. They hardly felt closer to the center of the maze and could only hope the others were having better luck then they were, but doubted that entirely.

“This is… tiresome.” Clint mused, to which Helena and Steve agreed with by small laughs they stifled to keep professional. However, their amusement faded away when Helena noticed the presence of light up ahead. She pressed her fingers to her lips to signal silence was needed and the three entered through an open archway. There was the center of the maze with torches along the walls but enough shadows to hide whatever beast they faced.

Helena stepped in front of Steve and Clint, edging closer to the darkness. She stopped dead in her tracks when a growl slithered out of the dark—or rather, three growls. Helena closed her eyes and swallowed, having a feeling she knew what awaited them in the shadows.   
  
“Chimera… It’s a chimera.” Helena declared to the others when she noticed Natasha, Bruce, and Tony emerge into the room. As Helena uttered its name, the Chimera peered out from the darkness with three pairs of glowing red eyes. The lion head licked its bloodstained lips, the goat head bleated tauntingly, and the snake head hissed. The Avengers prepared their weapons for battle and Helena raised her sword, igniting the first blow as a beam of light that illuminated the whole labyrinth. The Avengers charged toward the Chimera while evenly distributing themselves between the three heads.

Everything was happening so fast for Helena that she could hardly keep up with the others but tried her best to make sure no one went down. She traded blows with the goat’s head with her sword clashing with its horns. She was generally winning the battle when she wanted to gain a clear upper hand, one she knew would come with a closer combative stance.

“Give me a boost!” Helena declared through the chaos to Steve, who nodded and crouched with his shield flat. Helena sped toward him and used the shield as a springboard to launch her into mid-air. Helena pulled back her arm as a light gauntlet fashioned itself around her right hand and she threw her arm with full force. Her fist connected squarely with the Chimera’s goat head to a thunderous crack echoing from the contact. Steve, in the middle of dodging the snake head lashing out at him, grinned proudly at how the goat head bleated in sheer rage.

Helena rolled out of the way before a hoof came slamming down into the ground where she once stood. She brandished her sword and sparred back and forth with the snake head, slamming it against her weapons with full force. However, the snake was insistent on taking Helena down. So, with a charged blast of concentrated fire, the snake head of the Chimera aimed for Helena and opened fire. The blast connected with one of her own and the force was so powerful, it sent her flying back.

She was airborne, weightless until her back slammed against the wall and pain flared up in her shoulder, stunning Helena into speechlessness. Helena mouthed in agony and a broken sound crawled out when her body slumped to the dirty floor. It burned, beyond what she imagined pain felt like. Helena struggled to get back onto her feet with an entire arm out of commission. She faded her shield out and staggered onto her feet, ignoring the way her knees buckled.

“Sol!” Steve exclaimed and he dodged between the snake head snapping at him with its fangs to reach Helena. He smacked the snake head with his shield when the snake lunged for the third time, making the chimera recoil. Helena bit on her lip to keep from crying out and her eyes watered.   
  
“I’m okay- My shoulder is out of commission.” She remarked through grit teeth and Steve then noticed the shoulder appearing slightly deformed and crooked through the dim room. Her voice was pained, he knew Helena’s voice better than she thought.

“I’ve got your back covered,” Steve promised her and he kept true to his word by keeping with her reduced pace and protecting her behind the red and white striped vibranium Helena staggered behind him and she vanished her sword, replacing it with a row of spears made of light. She summoned them from behind Steve’s protection as he beat back the snake head with Natasha’s assistance of a hail of bullets. She watched Hulk trade blow by blow with the goat’s head—appearing quite battered underneath Hulk’s fists. Tony and Clint handled the lion head with explosion after explosion, clearly leaving the lion disoriented and confused enough for it to lash out and attack the snake head.

Helena knew that they were wearing the beast down, but far from defeating the monster completely. They would need some serious firepower or magic, which she could muster. Her pain was through the roof, but she needed to try. Helena racked her brain for an idea when she remembered the myth of the Chimera. She closed her eyes and started gathering light energy, pulling at the invisible strings to bring energy to her. She felt the crackling churn in her lungs with the power of a lightning strike and opened her eyes to form a heavenly arch made of glowing light spears.

“Solstice has an arsenal ready to launch!” Natasha alerted over the thundering roars and general chaos of a battle. The others safely snuck glances back to see Helena radiating with the spears hovering in the air, ready to strike.

“Get ready,” Helena warned before a beat passed and her eyes flashed solid gold, “Duck!” She roared and the Avengers hit the deck as Helena unleashed her volley of light spears raining down on the Chimera to its roars. Helena increased the intensity and number of arrows flying from behind her. She had a particular target, down the throat. Bellerophon, the first mortal to slay the Chimera had done not much differently. The pain from her shoulder flared once more and she unleashed a scream, masking it as a battle cry. Under her torment, the rain of light spears buried the Chimera and three precise strikes landed down one of the open mouths of the beast and killed it. And if one head was dead, the rest would follow. True to her word, the Chimera gave one last, ferocious bellow before collapsing dead before Helena’s feet. The rest of the Avengers scrambled onto their feet and turned to Helena, cradling her shoulder and breathing hard.

The walls of the labyrinth came crumbling down and flickered out of existence like an illusion. Those gathered around the scene burst into whistles and cheers for another threat vanquished and the spectacle that was the Avengers taming the Chimera. The Avengers caught their breath and closed their eyes, adjusting to the brightness of outdoors from the cramped, pervasive darkness inside the maze. Everyone was celebrating the win, except for Helena. Her eyes were glued on the horizon in the east, her body posture rigid, and her eyes dropped their golden walls back into blue as her form flickered dangerously.

“Something is wrong.” She whispered out before her knees buckled and Steve rushed to her defense, covering her moment of weakness from the view of civilian onlookers. He turned to the others as he ducked underneath her arm—pretending like Helena sustained an injury. Her eyes were glassy and distant, indicating that something was pulling at her. Inside, all she felt was destruction and ruin reminiscent of someone ripping the pin out of a grenade and watching it all explode.

“Back to the tower now!” Steve declared to the other Avengers, but Helena stopped him and shook her head. All the Avengers fell silent as she stammered out the words on her mind. She saw flashes in her mind of Eprana, her home and the birthplace of her ancestors, enveloped in flames. The sight churned her stomach violently and she refuses to break down or gag from the influx of physical pain and stress.

“We need to get to Eprana, at once.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Tumblr (@queen-among-writers) for additional content on Helena, Eprana, the Isle of Destiny, or the story in general! Please leave a kudos/comment if you enjoyed the series


	7. Eden

The entire flight to Eprana on an emergency quinjet, Helena had been painfully quiet, and the others found themselves at a loss for what to do. She refused to talk to anyone, and the extent of her interaction was limited to allowing Bruce to examine her dislocated shoulder. With Helena pointedly quiet, the atmosphere in the quinjet turned barrenly cold when devoid of her sunny disposition. Steve had sat next to her during the entire flight and hardly moved unless to engage in hushed conversations with the others away from Helena. He didn’t want to bother her while her world was falling apart. When the quinjet soared into the enchanted waters of Eprana, the Avengers understood Helena’s panic when the walls of the labyrinth crumbled into the nothingness of an illusion.

They could see the smoke from _miles_ away.

Chunky, sulfuric black plumes rising from the island, once lushly green but now nightmarishly blackened to ash. Eprana had been consumed by flames and the ashes and smoke was all that remained of the paradise Helena once called home. As badly as Helena hoped that something was left unscathed by the flames, she knew a fire was an indiscriminate force that consumed everything and anything left in its wake. That was the intent of razing Eprana to the ground: to leave no trace of what the island used to be.

Clint and Natasha landed the quinjet into the sand and cut the engine, killing the hum of life vibrating through the quinjet and plunging the inside into a solemn silence. No one knew what to say, what to do. The world, as Helena knew it, was crumbling apart. She couldn’t breathe, feeling like she was sinking in quicksand faster than she could scream for help. Drowning, drowning, drowning… poor little goddess who foolishly believed her straying from the path wouldn’t be punished. She disobeyed the natural order of fate and misfortune befell her home in tragic proportions; the guilt would be her punishment. The ramp mechanically descended from the quinjet and opened to the sight of the ruined, ash-covered beaches. Stuck in a daze, Helena ambled down the ramp before the other could stop her from leaving. Helena’s steps were staggering, jerky, and crude, a testament to the pain swirling through her mind in a hazy, dizzying fog. The others, unsure how to get through to her, mutely followed behind as they stepped onto the beach. Helena was ahead of them, her eyes blankly glued ahead to where her mansion should- where it once stood. For, as she drew closer, Helena realized that the mansion was a pile of dust and ashes; not even the last symbol of her ancestral glory survived the fire. She had nothing.

Helena’s knees buckled underneath her and she fell forward, hearing someone cry out from behind her. Her face and body hit the sand limply, her dislocated shoulder sticking out at an unnatural angle. Helena wanted the earth to swallow her alive to ease the overwhelming pain turning to numbness. She was no stranger to the hollow numbness, but gods above did she loathe it more than words could reasonably convey. She heard two sets of footsteps crunch in the sand beside her as Steve and Tony rushed to her side, ready to help her up. Helena didn’t know which one accidentally bumped against her injured shoulder, but the downright wounded cry escaping her lips caused Tony and Steve to recoil. Helena wanted to curl up into a ball or fall asleep until the pain subsided, but she knew that both were impossible. Steve and Tony tried to sit her up for the second time and were successful. Tony backed up, wanting to give Helena some physical space, but Steve, knowing Helena, stayed next to her. He grabbed at her hand and held it, letting the silence speak for itself. Helena grabbed a handful of sand and she opened her clenched fist, watching the ashes and sand and broken remainders of paradise slip through her fingers. Her eyes stung with unshed tears and the presence of smoke burned at her lungs with the same cruel ferocity as the tears threatening to spill. She closed her eyes and the tears came, streaking down her cheeks. Some of the Avengers turned away uncomfortably, giving her some privacy to grieve her home without abandoning her—stuck in a discomfited middle ground of inaction. Steve, however, knew how painful and crushing it was to learn the world you once knew was gone.

“I- I cannot understand,” Helena sobbed, clutching her hand against her chest and fighting to breathe, descending into a fit of hyperventilation. Panic turned her face ashen and clammy with a cold sweat. Helena was dangerously spiraling into the darkness, which was a familiar stomping ground filled with nightmares and the ghosts of her buried past.

“Helena, please breathe.” Steve urged out of concern, careful not to come across as snappy or commanding. Helena didn’t need a drill sergeant or a team leader right now. She needed a friend; he would be that friend for her. Helena continued to hyperventilate, but Steve breathing with her managed to calm her down enough to make her sentences coherent and lower the risk of her passing out.

“This is all my- I left the island unprotected and now, it is ruined,” Helena mumbled, distraught and racked with guilt. She saw what happened and cursed herself for believing she could allow one instance of selfishness, thinking she should have seen the punishment coming. She felt that she deserved the blame, but Steve refused to let her blame herself. How could she have prevented this attack? She could have been hurt, or worse. And he personally believed that the thief was responsible for this, which made the hunt for them personal. Not just for Helena, but Steve knew it was something that he and the others would consider a priority. Helena was one of them—she was an Avenger—and Avengers protected their own.

“Helena, look at me. Don’t blame yourself for this,” Steve forced her to meet his eyes, knowing his words would be disregarded as superficial reassurance unless she saw that he meant every damn word. Helena wasn’t the one who torched Eprana to the ground and by no sane logic did she bear any responsibility for what happened. Helena squeezed her eyes shut and forced the tears back; she refused to let them see her cry. Yes, they were her friends. But she hated crying in front of people, much less people she wanted to respect her. Helena didn’t know how she wasn’t bled dry of tears yet. 

“Steve, I don’t know what to do.” Helena sniffled, feeling at a loss. There was no idea of how to fix her mistake of leaving the island unprotected. The fire consumed it all, but there had to be some way she could move forward from this and restore life to the island.

“We’ll figure it out, together,” Steve promised her, and his eyes darted to the team standing behind her, watching the two of them. She was far from alone in this fight. All of them were in Helena’s corner and they refused to let an unknown, arrogant bastard hold a victory over Helena’s head like they defeated her. She was far from done fighting if Steve had anything to say about it. The Helena he knew, the one with unfailing optimism, never gave up. He added, “You have a whole team behind you.”

“Captain Rogers is correct,” Helena’s head snapped up at the new addition and the Avengers were greeted by the All-Father standing in the blackened ruins of Helena’s home. Behind him, eleven other beings radiating power and majesty to form the full Pantheon of Eprana’s deities. Helena knew them all by name and she struggled to perch on one knee.

“All-Father!” Helena exclaimed at the sudden, unexpected visit from her holy creators. The All-Father surveyed the island with no sadness in his eyes. He, and the other gods, understood the fleeting beauty of life. Nothing was made to last forever; empires crumbled under time’s unflinching hand and people died as quickly as they were born.

“Solstice, Avengers,” The All-Father greeted with a chorus of greetings from the other gods behind him toward Helena and the others. Helena could barely look at them with the guilt whispering in her head and the anxious voice in the back of her mind reminding her that she failed her one task the one goal she was intended to keep afloat by their order. “Solstice, your despair does not go unnoticed for you feel it. There is a great evil on the rise, one upsetting the natural order and the prevailing of the light. It is all-consuming, a threat to all that is good and just. Your father was investigating into the matter and preparing to hunt down before your untimely ascension to the role of Guardian. You must continue what your father started by conquering this evil in the name of all that is light and good. That journey begins with restoring life to Eprana’s heart and it can only be done by traveling to the one place I strictly forbade you and every other Guardian from journeying to.”

“You mean… Di Isla Aiónias Epithymías?” Helena inquired, stumbling over the name with fear flashing through her eyes. There was only one place that the gods marked as forbidden and Helena, who swore she would never go, remembered it well. The horrors that inhabited the island were some of the darker evils she stood against with the less outwardly dangerous appearance. It tended to be the more insidious of evils that set Helena on edge and made her uneasy.

“Yes, the Forbidden Isle.” The All-Father confirmed as the distant echo of thunder reached the ears of all standing on the beach. The Avengers watched the unnerved murmurs of the gods and shifted at the sound of a storm that didn’t seem to be there. If all the gods were uncomfortable by mere mention of this island, then what the hell was awaiting them there?

“Pardon my interruption,” Tony interjected from the sidelines and drew all eyes on him, as he tended to do regularly. That was just a Tony Stark thing, “but where the hell is—I can’t even repeat that name—or rather, what is it?” Tony questioned, likely for what the others might be thinking silently. Tony was never ashamed or abashed by questioning, another Tony Stark thing.

“Tony-” Steve protested under his breath to try and stop Tony from inappropriately running his mouth or pissing off any of the eleven gods or goddesses they had yet to gain approval from. Steve really didn’t feel like being smitten into ashes due to Tony’s occasional impatience.

“No, it’s alright. You all deserve to know,” Helena assured the group before tensions accidentally flared for the last thing they needed was to begin fighting amongst each other. Helena sighed and she collected her scattered thoughts, a lingering aftereffect of the series of disasters marking that day. It begins with Eden, Eden, Eden… The Holy Paradise of the Christian tradition, “We all have heard of Eden, the divine paradise created by God for mankind and his other creations, yes? The Bible describes Eden as a place where paradise was until the fall of humanity from God’s grace when Adam and Eve consumed the fruit from the Tree of Knowledge.”

“Wait, are you about to tell us that Eden was- is real?” Natasha inquired, sensing that with the confirmation of Eden would come with some substantial implications about the being who created Eden. That was a whole can of worms no one wanted to touch with a ten-foot pole.

“Not quite. Eden is not real but was inspired by a real place: Di Isla Aiónias Epithymías. It translates from Epranan to ‘The Isle of Everlasting Desire’. It is believed to be a paradise beyond moral imagination, filled with riches unfathomable, plenty, and people blessed with divine beauty. It is an island chockful of temptation.” Helena’s face turned dark, which startled the other Avengers. Never had they seen Helena so solemn, but that day had been full of unexpected and unwanted surprises. Her lips contorted into a disgusted scowl when thinking about the nymphs who preyed on the weakness of man for their own demented amusement. “Whatever a person could desire most is there: endless food and drink, sex, riches, and other worldly comforts. The island is under the guardianship of Epthians, a race of nymphs who deal in desire. They relentlessly promise those misfortunate enough to end up on the island what they desire most for a price. Those who fall prey to their prettified lies or consume any of the island’s things end up spending the remainder of their lives in a nightmare of their making. The Epthians put them into a trance where their body becomes paralyzed and a twisted version of their fantasy overtakes their mind, putting their physical autonomy in a vegetated state. They are the forgotten sisters of the Sirens in Greek myth and the Djinns of the Middle East, a breed so deadly that few have survived their charms.” Helena informatively declared while she paced along the sand, overwhelmed by her thoughts. She never believed she would ever visit that forsaken isle so long as she should live, but Eprana’s survival might depend on it.

“Not to offend, but why would we willingly choose to go to a place like that?” Bruce questioned, seemingly uncomfortable with the thought of the island. Keeping control of the other guy was a notoriously difficult task and an island dedicated to temptation might cause some issues with the other guy.

“On the island is a temple where a sacred, magic flower grows. The flower can restore life to something destroyed-” Cohnos explained and Helena’s face shifted, showing that she caught onto what Cohnos implied through suggesting the flower.

“Which means it can restore the life to the island’s heart and reverse the damage,” Helena interjected, the pieces falling into place for her. Such power would be protected behind the barrier of the Epthians and their temptations that it likely would be there… and Helena would find it, no matter the fight she would have to put up. She looked at the Avengers, her friends and her team. She was not in the habit of willingly dragging them in danger without offering them a choice to decline. “I- We need to retrieve this flower. I don’t want to put you in danger, but I want to offer you the chance to come with me.”

“I am coming along,” Steve interjected without hesitation. He would be the first to Helena’s aid, he always was.

“Me too,” Tony declared confidently, ready to tackle and conquer the temptation island. A couple of nymphs were not enough to stop the Avengers.

“Count me in,” Natasha chimed in with a determined tone and with each additional ‘yes,’ Helena’s once defeated posture reversed into one of strength and resolve. They were making damn good on that promise that they were a team.

“We’ll all do this.” Clint summed up when he caught Bruce’s quiet nod; the Avengers were a package deal in adventure and kicking evil’s ass. None of them were going to stand on the sidelines while one of their own insisted on putting themselves into potential harm. Besides, no nymphs were going to scare the Avengers into inaction; they just came from taming a Chimera and survived. Helena accepted their answer with open arms and a plan forming to keep them safe from the enticing lure of temptation.

“We shall prepare you for your journey,” The All-Mother, the Queen of the Gods and the goddess of motherhood and fertility and the earth, remarked tranquilly and the other gods murmured in agreement. Those who were not needed stepped back and watched on as Cohnos, Nixtia, and the All-Father approached the Avengers and adopted to more mortal appearances.

“Come, Helena,” Cohnos signaled for her to step forward and when she did, he laid his hands on her dislocated shoulder as they glowed a muted green. Underneath his magic, the injury knitted itself together and the bone snapped back into proper placement. Helena rolled her shoulder to no pain and full function, a small smile gracing her tear-stained face.

“Thank you, Cohnos,” Helena whispered to her former mentor, one of two, and he nodded wordlessly at her. Helena stepped to the side where she was approached by Nixtia, holding a ceremonial bowl balancing on her open palm. She dipped two fingers into the glistening oil gathered and she painted her symbol, a curved star, on Helena’s forehead. Upon the blessed touch, Helena felt tranquility wash over her and with that tranquility, a surge of strength was not far behind. The ritual was a battlefield blessing, meant to prepare the warrior with the power to face whatever might await them.

“I bless thou under my divine hand. Thine destiny is written of the blood coursing through thy veins, the blood of a warrior. Victory shall be thine and delivered to thee with the swiftness of sword, the sturdiness of shield, and resolve of thy spirit. Blessed are the chosen of the Pantheon for they will never cower, never waver, never surrender so long as there is breath in thine lungs. Unam gloria de theón !” Nixtia chanted over Helena, waving her hands above her head and channeling energy through Helena. Helena felt her skin buzzing with renewed life and determination firing up in her chest. One by one, the Avengers were treated for injuries before receiving a blessing. While she waited for her friends to be blessed and healed from their battle with the Chimera, Helena seated herself along the shore and looked on as the waves rushed toward the beach before receding back into itself. The tide was low and whatever sand that was left unscathed by the fire was quenched by the cyclical return of its lover in the ocean’s calm waves. Helena rested her chin atop her folded arms and knees pulled into her chest, feeling at her absolute lowest. She heard the sound of footsteps in the sand approaching her from behind and she sighed exhaustedly; there was still much to do and she needed to keep steady.

“We have a chance to repair this. I am not going to let any of the Epthians stand in my way or let them sink their claws into you and the others.” Helena quietly reassured Steve without drawing her eyes away from the horizon, barely discernible from the smoke plunging the sky into darkness. She already knew who it was before he sat down by her side. The island’s magical breeze, somehow unscathed by the devastation, brushed through her loose curls and tickled her cheeks with a ghostly kiss.

“Eprana is lucky to have you protecting it,” Steve remarked, not needing Helena to tell him things would be alright. He knew they would be because he knew Helena. She cared about Eprana and with a chance to restore the paradise, she would do what needed to be done. That is what Steve admired about her: she committed to protecting what she cared about and would crawl to the ends of the earth for them. Seeing her so close to giving up, Steve admired her regular optimism and how that relied on so much _strength._

“I doubt it, but thank you.” Helena cast her eyes down to the sand, unsure if she deserved such a compliment. She knew Steve didn’t consider this her fault, but she refused to forgive herself just yet. Not until they successfully retrieved the flower from the Epthians or the Isle of Everlasting Desire, would Helena allow herself to contemplate forgiveness for her mistake.

“Eprana is not lost. We will bring it back. So, don’t forget the memories you made here or any of the language.” Steve tried to lift her spirits as best he could: with a smile and sincerity. He was not accustomed to seeing her so withdrawn… or perhaps that was intentional? Had he or the others never seen Helena other than happy because that’s what she wanted them to see her as? He shook his head, dismissing the ridiculous thoughts from his mind—that was irrelevant.

“I could never forget it, not even after a century passing by.” Helena managed a watery laugh, failing to realize that she had been brought to the edge of tears. She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand and blinked her eyes, brushing back the tears. There was no time for tears.

“Tell me about it,” Steve requested cautiously, not wanting to upset her by prying. There were small glimpses of her culture that shone through in her daily routine from the food she cooked around the tower, or the little phrases that would slip from her tongue that Steve could only assume were Epranan from how ethereal and ancient they sounded. Helena was a walking embodiment of her history—there were pieces of it in her eyes and her smile. Helena’s eyes lightened as if Steve’s words swept away the dark storm clouding what she could see.

“Well, the language is closest to Latin and Greek to the inexperienced ears, which is likely a side effect of the time. At that time, Greece and Rome were gaining in power and the geographic proximity encouraged the similarities in linguistic traits. It is not as hard to pick up as it initially seems if I am honest. Some of my favorite phrases are ones I learned from my father years ago and they stuck with me: unam gloria de theón, Ne judicio de fata indicio tu, Te morira pera, likána, and Te agapó.” Helena explained, letting herself free from the useless information and touch her memories with some fondness, confident that she could hold herself together enough to share. Steve hung onto her every word with a clear interest in how she lovingly spoke each word, wrapped up in reverence and holiness, not unlike her fearsome battle cries or magical incantations. When mentioning her father, Helena’s face would light up and the last one (out of the group) caused the brightest reaction he had seen from her all day—a glimpse of the Helena he knew translating through.

“That last one—” Steve interjected and when Helena glanced over at him, he suddenly became shy while he tried to recall how she pronounced it. He would undoubtedly butcher it compared to her elegant, effortless recitation, but that word clearly meant something to her by the way her eyes sparkled. “—Te agapó… what does it mean?”

“Uh, it means… like an equivalent to good luck! Let fate guide you is the closest English translation.” Helena lied in a momentary instance of panic and she resisted the urge to telegraph it across her face. She didn’t know what to say and she tended to blurt things out when she was caught off guard.

“That’s quite beautiful,” Steve mused when he diverted his eyes from the waves and back onto Helena’s profile, glowing in the fading light of the setting sun dipping below the horizon. “Te agapó, Helena.”

“I- Te agapó, Steve.” Helena swallowed thickly and she tremblingly whispered out the words, in disbelief that her tongue would betray her so easily. She wasn’t expecting a conversation about Epranan or him fixating on ‘Te agapó’ or that he would want to know what it meant. So, she panicked a little. How was she supposed to tell him it actually meant ‘I love you’ and not what he thought it meant?

Before she could get a chance to rectify her little white lie, her and Steve’s names were called from further up the beach by Clint. That could only mean that it was time for them to journey to The Isle of Everlasting Desire and retrieve the flower. Steve helped Helena back onto her feet and the two wordlessly regrouped with the others, both distracted. Helena was mulling over the task at hand and the true meaning behind Steve’s unwitting declaration to her while Steve was concerned about Helena. She was putting on a brave face for the others, but Steve doubted the sincerity of her being ‘alright’. Once the island was restored to new life, Steve thought, then Helena will be settled at peace.

“The flower you are looking for is known as an Imperial Dawn. It is a pure white shade, only blooms under the presence of moonlight, its petals are curved inward, and will likely only grow in a place of darkness.” Cohnos described the flower and Helena made a note of the description, knowing she had her hands full. She was walking into the lion’s den with her vulnerable friends and she refused to take her eyes from them for even a second.

“One last thing before we leave,” Helena spoke up and she faced her friends with her godly form settling back into place. Her tone, ominous, was heightened by the gold glowing in her eyes, “No matter how hard the Epthians plead or wave a temptation before you, do not agree to anything. Continually refuse because the price of your desires is marked in blood. The Epthians hold a tradition of blood sacrifices and dark magic, which means you would be forced to kill someone you love or considered close.” The Avengers glanced between each other with unsurprised and disturbed looks; of course, there was a twist to it.

“Ne judicio de fata indicio tu, Avengers,” The All-Father proclaimed and with a wave of his hand, a swirling portal opened before them and brushed the sand around in a small gale. On the other side, the Avengers could see a strange world of red dipped skies, dark purple sands, and lilac ocean waves frothing along the shore. Sharply inhaling and swallowing back her fear of the place she swore she would never go, Helena forced herself through the portal first with the Avengers following not far behind. As soon as the portal closed and the Avengers had barely walked five paces down the beach, a honeyed voice called out to them.

“Welcome strangers,” The voice belonged to a platinum-haired woman, scantily clad in purple silks and a crown that suspiciously appeared to be made from skeletal bones. She gave a smile that could dazzle any unsuspecting man or woman into falling head over heels, but the Avengers knew better. She cooed, “I am Queen Eudora of the Epthians. You have reached the Isle of Everlasting Destiny, an eternal paradise where you are free to… desire. You must be so weary from your travels. Come, let us help you.” She reached out and touched Helena against her newly healed shoulder, pretending in a gesture of good faith and hospitality. But underneath her fake smile, Helena knew her motives were anything but benign.

“The ‘help’ you offer is nothing we want.” Helena pushed off her hand, knowing what happened when physical contact with the Epthians ensued. The Queen of the Epthians, with some of her servants, was able to sense your innermost desires through tactile contact. A brush of a hand was strong enough for some of the Epthians to unravel a person’s darkest secrets and deepest yearnings.

“Oh? Well, that is too bad,” Eudora’s expression faltered and for a moment, darkness coated her eyes, and a pair of sharpened canines bared into an offended sneer. However, the smile snapped back into place when her hand sweepingly gestured to the Avengers standing behind Helena. She teasingly crooned, “Perhaps your companions might be less ungrateful for such generosity.” Eudora snapped her fingers and more of the Epthians, clad in nothing but their bare skin and flowers are loosely sewn into their hair, rushed from the tree line to surround the Avengers. Natasha leaned over and closed Clint’s hearing aids into receiving no external noise. She placed a hand along his back and adopted a fierce glare that dared any of the Epthians to step within five feet of her or her partner, which managed to ward off even the most frenzied of the Epthians away. With one Avengers delivered safely from their temptations and another one closed off, Queen Eudora focused her attention on the remaining four. Her eyes flashed when she looked at Helena; the demigoddess would be a fun one to break.

“We have endless food!” One nymph exclaimed and she held up a newly split peach, shimmering under the sunlight with fresh juice. She offered one half to Steve and Helena, who both refused it promptly. The nymph, undaunted, turned to one of her sisters and playfully fed it to her—clearly making a show of it.

“Plenty to drink,” Another one lifted a glazed pitcher and tipped the spout to reveal a pomegranate red liquid cascading from within, depositing the drink into the chalice of another Epthian sister. The two tried to force the chalice into Clint’s hands, but he promptly dropped it. When they tried again, Natasha smacked the chalice onto the sands.

“We also offer more physical pleasures,” Another nymph giggled and she and a few of the others enticingly approached the males except for Clint, invading their personal space and bringing attention to their unclothed bodies—the pinnacle of human perfection. Bruce shrunk into himself, clearly uncomfortable with the attention and the proximity. Tony, although holding his hands up in the surrender pose and giving an amused smirk, had no intention of letting these nymphs persuade him into anything. Steve, a mix of flustered and annoyed, diverted his eyes from the naked bodies attempting to press against him.

“We’ve come for the Imperial Dawn, nothing else. Certainly nothing you can give us.” Natasha calculatedly stated, seeing how the nymphs skirted around her skittishly. She was the most difficult of the group to crack; a good spy had to be.

“But you must be so exhausted! Why not join us at a feast?” Eudora suggested with a chill running down the Avengers’ spines from how gleeful she sounded. The Epthians swarmed in, inching closer to the Avengers who were backed into a corner. Each was grabbed by a flurry of Epthians and dragged by the surprisingly strong nymphs to a newly conjured table along the water, not willingly going along. But no amount of physical or verbal protests would stop the Epthians from obeying the orders of their Queen.

As the Avengers were forced into seats, restraints curled around their wrists and ankles from the arms and legs of the chairs to their startled yelling. Queen Eudora watched the scene of the Avengers struggling through much obvious amusement. Out of the group, Helena fought the most and her eyes glowed—livid with herself for her weakness with magic. It would take too long to gather the magic necessary to free all of them from the restraints, time that they didn’t have.

“There, much better.” Eudora teasingly punctuated each word with a saccharine tone and a twisted smile, the kind that would induce shivers. She reclined back in her throne and prepared herself to indulge in the stolen memories and invaded privacy.

“What do you even want?” Helena questioned, narrowing her eyes while still fighting against the restraints while the others were frustratingly refraining from exerting any more energy in a futile battle. They weren’t going to win by brute force, not even the super-soldier or the Hulk or the demigoddess.

“The better question, Helena, is what do you want? I know the answers for you and all your pathetic mortal companions.” As Eudora surveyed them one by one, each of the Avengers saw how their teammates and friends reacted with horror, panic, or unsettling and telling silence. Eudora clicked her tongue, sounding like a mother about to chastise her children, “We shall begin with Clinton Barton, the little circus boy who used to cower at the sight of his shadow and the hand of his alcoholic father. He hides behind a disarming smile and a poor attempt for humor, but not even the greatest marksmanship in the world could ever compensate for what he desired most: normalcy. The small house with a wife and children, so menial of an existence and yet he craves it. Then, there is Anthony Edward Stark, the man with a mind racing with million thoughts but a hole where his heart should be from the absent love of a father he was so desperate to please. Filled with liquor and snark, he hides behind nonchalance and impropriety when he wants nothing more than to control the unpredictable. He desires to control, to wrap the world in a suit of armor because should another New York come to fruition, the guilt shall crush him like Atlas under the strain of the world. Because he cannot handle when things are out of control for the ego he wields entitles him to believe he can play God when he is a flawed, broken man. Natalia Alianovna Romanova, the perfect weapon crafted by the hands of man, broken by their cruelty, and yet you thrive on the blood staining yours. There is red in your ledger that you wish to wipe clean, but what you truly desire was ripped from you the day you graduated the Red Room. A sterilized room will forever haunt you as a reminder that you will never conceive. You are barren, empty, a shell of a woman who desired what a spy could never have. Dr. Bruce Banner, a genius of staggering proportions but weakened by the anger festering inside of you. As much as you detach from the monster, disassociate from him, you already know that you and he are one and the same. There is chaos, the darkness within you and even a bullet cannot satiate your need for silence, although not for lack of trying. Steven Grant Rogers, God’s righteous soldier, the perfect man. Who are you really besides a genetically mutated freak who cannot live without war? Do you think Peggy waited for you when you crashed into the ice? How about your best friend, Bucky, who careened down into the cold? Everyone you have ever loved has died or moved on without you, you meant nothing to them. There is no old life to turn back to for the man out of time. You can never have them back for the idyllic happily ever after you regret losing forever. And Helena Nepheros, you… you are filled with desires that will never see the light of day for how stupid and naïve you truly are. Poor little goddess with no one to love her. If only you had your father back, but would you live up to the expectations or fall short of his pride like Icarus doomed for a catastrophic, violent end? You are weak, a failure to all who have carried the Guardian mantle before you. You are a waste of space like the little voice tells you, worth nothing and better off where the darkness lingers. And the greatest irony of all is that you even think someone like him would even look at you twice as other than something like a nuisance-” Eudora taunted but Helena had heard enough, her body trembling uncontrollably.

“Stop talking,” Helena mumbled, feeling absolutely overwhelmed. The urge to cry welled up in the back of her throat while her eyes burned tauntingly. Could she ever be brave or was she a useless, emotional waste of space? Helena’s vision swam in the blur of unshed tears and Steve whirled on Eudora with a stern scowl.

“Leave her alone!” Steve declared sternly, jerking roughly against the enchanted restraints clamping their arms down to the arms of the chair and rendering them unable to fight back. He felt helpless, frustratingly so.

“Ah, a white knight emerges.” Eudora openly cackled at Steve’s heroic attempt to protect Helena from her, an effort which would prove fruitless. The Avengers were not going anywhere anytime soon and she planned on making them crack one by one. It was only a matter of which one she wanted to break first. She planned on making Helena last so she would watch all her friends descend into madness, but perhaps she might keep Steve for herself. She always wanted a pet and he was handsome enough to pique her interest… for a while, that is.

“You clearly can’t take no for an answer,” Tony rolled his eyes at the overdramatic, theatrical pleasure this psychopath received from the suffering of others. He was never a fan of sadism, and this lady practiced it in spades.

“We don’t want anything from you. It would be better to let us go.” Bruce calmly suggested, but that calm was a façade for all the chaos swirling inside of him. The other guy was stirring from his slumber, a sleeping dragon ready to wreak havoc on whatever laid in his path, friend or foe.

“Nonsense! Now, we shall partake! Your desires in the open and revealed are something to celebrate. Make your desires come true, abandon a world full of pestilence and vice and death. Here, you can be eternally gratified. Don’t you want that?” Eudora purred triumphantly as she sipped from a chalice of what appeared to be honeyed wine, but pulling the rim back to reveal lips tainted an unsettling red. Her lips pulled into an impish smirk when watching some of the Avengers squirm under the close contact from her devoted followers, her best coercers.

“We aren’t stupid, lady. We know what really happens behind the pretty lies and all the gratuitous nakedness.” Tony deadpanned, reaching the end of his notoriously thin patience with this whole encounter. Eudora brushed her platinum hair over her shoulders, parading with her chest puffed out like she already won. And in her mind, she already had.

“You will eventually succumb, no matter how long it takes,” Eudora remarked indifferently, but the wicked curl of her lips into a pleased smirk betrayed her unadulterated hubris at the nearly impossible situation. It would only be a matter of time before these so-called heroes caved into her wiles and whims; all mortals fell at some point, even the most virtuous. The Avengers were trapped in a situation, outnumbered by the Epthians but not willing to pull their weapons just yet. Helena, from her seat, felt the anger quietly simmering in her chest boiling over. She had been pushing the anger down within her chest and prayed that she might keep her cool since before they reached Eprana’s devastated shores, but she could no longer remain in control of the anger. Her breaking point snapped into twos with a resounding crunch when Helena crushed the arms of her chair underneath her tense grip.

“No,” All heads snapped toward Helena, who rose out of her seat. Eudora narrowed her eyes and her face contorted into a sneer, the first physically unpleasant display from the Epthians. Through the scowl, the Avengers could see the true malice that festered inside the nymphs and how dangerous they truly were. Helena had not lied to them about that. When Eudora slammed her hands down on the arms of her throne and threatened to rise, but that stopped when a dagger made of light pressed itself against her jugular. Eudora remained painfully still and a hush fell over the table while Helena’s eyes flickered gold. “I suggest that you allow my friends and I to leave without further hassle because I can guarantee that you will regret it otherwise. I am the Guardian of Eprana, and I refuse to let you keep me from what I came here for. So, you will let us go before I decide to spill your blood for Lorerin’s drinking chalice.” Helena snarled in uncharacteristic, downright frightening rage. During her rant, her body adopted a heavenly glow to it that encased her in intimidating, crackling energy that set all those seated around the table on edge. The Avengers gawked at Helena’s uncharacteristic outburst in rage, wondering where the sweet, soft-spoken woman they came to knew disappeared to. Eudora took one look into Helena’s eyes and her face drained of color to become ashen. Within those soulless gold walls, Eudora saw death and destruction to whatever lay in Helena’s way… and it was no threat. It was a promise.

“Fine, demigod scum. You and your companions are free to leave,” Eudora conceded furiously, unwilling to believe that she had been bested by any mortal. Her followers were shell-shocked and stunned speechless by the climactic, emotionally charged threat. The Avengers scrambled to their feet when the nymphs blocking them in shrank away and they regrouped behind Helena, watching the light blade dissipate from her neck.

“Threatening my friends would never work well with me,” Helena advised coldly and the nymphs, sensing that their continued presence might warrant bloodshed, vanished into thin air with the lingering whiff of sensual perfume and the echoing titter of a seductive giggle.

“Did we just- Please tell me someone else saw what I did?” Bruce whispered to the group, wide-eyed and wanting to make sure he hadn’t hallucinated the whole showdown between Helena and the Epthians.

“We saw it alright,” Natasha confirmed and Helena closed her eyes, releasing the extra power and feeling some tension abate from her body. She hardly realized that her hands were trembling from the increased adrenaline in her system… or was that the fear of confrontation talking instead? Either way, Helena felt her stomach unsettled and she wanted to move along. She barely glanced over her shoulder, for she could feel her friends’ stares burning into her back.

“Now, the Imperial Dawn?” Helena suggested quickly, wanting to put the whole outburst behind her and the others merely nodded in agreement. They were still processing the witnessed act of Helena threatening mass murder. This was the same Helena that nearly burst into tears when Tony tried to kill a bumblebee that got inside the tower and released it back outside? Nevertheless, none of the Avengers felt bold enough to question it or potentially upset Helena.

“Lead the way,” Tony commented and Helena nodded, tapping into her amulet to track a potential signature. She knelt among the sand while she channeled the necessary energy for the trace and when she got something substantial, she stumbled onto her feet. The Isle of Everlasting Desire was filled with magic, but there was only one signature not shrouded in darkness or possessing a dark aura about it.

“I think I found it!” Helena exclaimed and her head turned further up the beach to the curve in the sand that disappeared behind a bend of royal palms and frangipani. She led the Avengers on a trek down the beach and around the bend, where a dirt path delving into the dense jungle opened. Helena armed herself with her holy sword, not sure what dangers might hide in the thickets of the trees or the shadow of the jungle. With the nymphs dispatched but unfamiliar surroundings, Helena would be a fool to assume the danger was gone with the Epthians. This forsaken place held secrets unbeknownst to her and some she would rather not find out.

“Keep your eyes peeled,” Natasha remarked when she pulled her handgun from her holster and clicked a new magazine into place with an efficient click. The others agreed and drew their various weapons, except for Bruce. The Avengers maintained three-hundred-sixty degree security as Helena guided them through the underbrush. She deftly sliced low-hanging tree foliage out of their way as they traipsed along the beaten, dirt path.

“Up ahead, I can sense it.” Helena declared abruptly during the silence of the trek through the jungle and the relief in her voice was hardly missed by the others. The entire journey had been an emotional whirlwind of pain, guilt, and tears. The exhaustion was barely kept at bay by Helena, not wanting her friends to see any less of her. When the Avengers stumbled into the dusty courtyard of a decrepit, crumbling series of ruins entangled amongst the vines and flowers unlike anything any of the Avengers had seen before (except Helena), they figured they found the location of the Imperial Dawn. This place fit the bill for the house of a magical flower with enough power to revive an island ravaged to ashes by fire. The Avengers cautiously navigated through the ruins with Helena as their unflinching guide from the point position. Ahead of them was the largest of the ruins, the most intact of the group, and likely their destination. The six filtered into the ruin one by one, needing to duck to slip through the partially collapsed doorway.

Helena summoned her shield as she walked ahead of the group and knelt before the closed flower, growing from the ancient, dirty roots through the cracked ruin floors. She cupped the flower between her hands and pulled the Imperial Dawn from the earth untouched by disruptive, intended hands. She cradled the unearthed roots tenderly in her hand and she stared up at the ceiling, her eyes blanking over. She felt the spirits and old magic swirling around her, untapped and calling out to her wantonly. The potential was there, but Helena knew it would slip just loose of her fingertips, elusive. She honed in on the tug in her abdomen and begged for the All-Father to hear her, that she needed his help, that she needed his strength lent for she couldn’t do it alone.

Her prayers flowered from her lips with pleading urgency and a tether fostered from the magic convalescing around Helena in smoky wisps of white. The Avengers watched with awe as the swirls collected and collected until a glittering mirror shimmered with the familiar green of a portal, their ticket back to Eprana. The All-Father had heard her cries and rewarded her with his strength. Stepping through the portal, Helena cast her eyes to the skies to see the remnants of nightfall while the gentle call of the dawn whispered in her ears. There were faint strokes of pink and golden across the inky black and glittering canvas of the night sky. The dawn would be the prime opportunity to complete the ritual and restore Eprana under the rise of a renewed sun. Helena sprinted ahead of the others and held the flower up to Cohnos.

“Is this it? Is this the Imperial Dawn?” Helena questioned while she watched the flower’s shy petals bloom open to the hypnotic, sleepy blue glow and full white shade. She handed it to Cohnos and prayed that they had succeeded.

“Yes, you found it.” Cohnos confirmed, to which the Avengers released a collective sigh of relief. From the background, a burly, plump man strolled down the beach with his loose garb and a pitcher in hand. He was Otos, the God of celebrations, trickery, and the patron god of magic users.

“Helena, we must restore the island together. The renewal begins with the tide.” Otos spoke in a deep, groveling voice and Helena nodded. Together, she and Otos walked to the water’s edge and continued to walk into the water until they were chest-deep. Otos chanted softly under his breath and the glow of the flower brightened. He prepared a blessing for the tiresome spell, which would require Helena’s strength paired together with his. He directed Helena to lay flat on her back and float among the calm waves. She cupped the flower on her stomach above the water while Otos cupped his hands on both sides of her head and resumed chanting in Epranan.

From the edge of the shore, the Avengers watched the scene in utter fascination. Helena’s expression was motionless and lifeless that only the delicate rise and fall among her chest reminded them that she was alive. Then, as Otos approached the apex of his incantation, he moved his hands from her head and pushed Helena’s body to submerge under the waves. That initially caused some panic in Steve, who was held back by Natasha and Clint when they noticed his twitch and assumed he was going to race toward Helena. The waters were calm and nearly stilled when a silver glow gradually seeped out from the edge of the ocean. The light spread outward in all directions and everything it touched turned silver-white. The Avengers shifted when the sand under their feet became pure light, but the sensations didn’t change.

Where the light came and went, the island changed. The sands became white and untainted by the presence of ashes. Lush green and foreign fauna developed where they once were as life trickled back and returned to Eprana. The mansion of opulence and splendor reassembled again from the pile of ashes and smithereens. As the sun rose over Eprana, the wounds of the fire were only a memory—one wiped from the physical existence through magic. Otos stepped back from the waters with a flourish and that was when Helena resurfaced, spluttering for air and blinking wildly. Steve, no longer willing to be held back, sprinted to the water and waded in with little concern. Helena heard someone approaching and she tried to furiously wipe the saltwater from her eyes but stopped when she felt two strong arms encircle around her. She knew those arms; they belonged to Steve. 

“You did it!” Steve whispered to her, crushing Helena close to him and against his chest. He hardly cared that he was getting wet from the ocean waves lapping around him. Helena managed a smile for the first time since before the Chimera attack and she hugged back. She couldn’t accept all the credit alone, for she didn’t save Eprana, the Avengers did.

“No, Steve, we did it,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Tumblr (@queen-kass-the-writer) for additional content on Helena, Helena x Steve, Eprana, the Isle of Destiny, or the story in general! Please leave a kudos/comment if you enjoyed the series.


	8. Mirage

The hunt for the thief was going to drive Helena over the edge of insanity. Months had passed by since she and the Avengers were thankfully able to restore Eprana after the monster burned the island to send a message. There had been some small traces of the thief with maybe one artifact stolen over that period, but Helena was no closer to catching them. Helena took each failure to heart and she spent countless hours hunting, searching, and trying to figure out the thief’s motives and where they might strike yet.

Weeks without answers of any kind plunged Helena into a downward, depressive spiral that raised alarming concern within the Avengers. There would be vast periods where Helena would need to be coaxed from her work, reminded to hydrate and eat and shower. The bags under her eyes boasted the unknown number of hours she went sleepless or the emotional exhaustion fraying at her. Then a swift backlash of the converse, where Helena spent a day or two in her room where the others wouldn’t see her and often stopped by her room to check on her through the door. She was never cross or snappy with the others, but she was silent. The sunniness faded into dull silence and everything felt off.

The others saw Helena working from sun up to sun down for days on end, so they made it their mission to check in on her with a frequent rotation. They consistently offered a helping hand, which she accepted on good days. The work mostly consisted on researching dusty tomes that were fished from ruined temples hidden beyond mortal reach that included monsters, spirits, legends—all things Helena considered possible leads. There were times where she disappeared for days because an alert flared up with the spectral signature and Helena chased it down, only to find the trail cold.

The only solace that was clear was that the number of burglaries decreased and that meant less mythical creatures rampaging around for Helena to wrangle. It was an infuriating catch-22 that nagged at the back of Helena’s silently suffering mind. There was no solace in anything and the outcome of capturing the thief seemed starkly out of her reach. 

Pushing in the door of the safe house, Helena exhaustedly stumbled inside before her battle aura dropped and she transformed back into a normal woman. She leaned her back against the locked front door and caught her breath in the darkness of the house. She could barely see her hand in front of her face, lost somewhere in the pitch-black abyss. Helena brought an orb of light to life in her hand and held it above her head, weakly illuminating the way. Her exhaustion was tampering her power, demonstrating her weakness in the past few weeks.

Usually, she would rush back to the tower, but Helena coordinated with Steve when she realized her exhaustion’s consequences. She would not be making it back to the tower and outside of the tower was filled with unknown dangers. So, some quick thinking from Steve (and help from Clint and Natasha) yielded the coordinates of a SHIELD owned safe house between her and the tower where Helena might safely crash. She planned a rendezvous with Steve at this location with him or an extraction team, hopefully on their way. Helena painfully stumbled through the safe house while nursing a potentially cracked rib and a minorly burned leg. She and nearly cried with relief upon discovering a worn leather couch tucked into the corner of the next room. She limped over to the sofa and achingly lowered her body onto the sofa, her body trembling from the residual pain of her unfortunate encounter.

She might have been hunting the thief, but she encountered a vile creature when following the trail left behind. She emerged from the fight victorious, but not without battle scars.

“The beast put up a fight, I’ll give it that,” Helena muttered under her breath when she forcefully squeezed her eyes shut to block the hot, angry tears from leaving her eyes. As she learned early on, there were evil creatures in the world but there were good ones too. The only difference is that good creatures could be corrupted via enchantment, stripping them of all that made them beings of the light and warped them into blood-thirsty and remorseless killing machines. Tonight, while on her mission, she encountered one such corrupted beast: a gryphon. Once a majestic herald of the light, the gryphon took one look at her and lunged for her throat. She managed to put down the beast, but her stomach turned when thinking of what it used to be.

Cautious of her rib, she shuffled her body to lay flat on her back. There was plenty of wincing and mumbled cries as Helena settled against the couch and exhaustion barreled into her with the force of a freight train. She knew she would require medical attention when returning to the tower; her focus was awaiting Steve or an extraction team reaching her. Her eyes stared up at the ceiling hidden somewhere behind the indistinguishable darkness shrouding her with the same suffocating, disconcerting pressure of a coffin. The weariness trickled in from all sides and no matter how hard Helena fought against it, she eventually passed out. Whether from the pain or the exhaustion, it was not entirely clear. Regardless, Helena sank into a deep sleep and became blissfully unaware of what lurked in the shadows around the foot of the couch.

A pair of glowing red eyes pierced through the darkness and surveyed Helena’s prone body, curled on the couch in the fetal position. Such a pathetic position to see one of the most powerful beings in the mythological world in. How befitting that her fall from strength and grace should serve his master well and, much to the demon’s delight, the little half-blood would never see his master’s plan succeed.

The demon melted into the floor and swiftly inched toward a sleeping Helena, creeping up onto the couch. The amulet resting against Helena’s chest restlessly stirred at the sensed intrusion of something… evil but failed to wake Helena in time. The demon transformed into sickly, chilling smoke and slipped into her throat. Helena’s body started to writhe in her sleep while sweat beaded across her forehead. Her body unconsciously knew something wasn’t right and the magic was fighting the demon. But the demon had a plan that involved breaking Helena’s walls down and infiltrating her trust.

He would not fail his master. The thief had lured the demigoddess out and he was tasked to finish the job.

Helena was falling through darkness until she collided with the cold, unforgiving ground. She curled into herself and laid with her eyes closed, not having enough will to get back up. She felt at the most significant loss of her life. When she did take in her surroundings, she recognized them as the landscape of the Isle of Destiny—the home of the Pantheon and the noblest of heroes. Great, a memory of the place she loved to torment her with how greatly she failed. She failed her team, the lives of all those on earth, the Pantheon, her father… virtually everyone. Helena laid her head back down on the paved road to the throne room and she wondered if she even had the strength to muster for whatever brought her here.

“Helena? Helena, is that you?” Helena lifted her head swiftly as she spotted ‘Steve’ sprinting toward her, relief splashed across his handsome face. She never felt so thankful to see his face in her life. He knelt at her side and pulled her straight onto her feet, wrapping her in a tight hug in the same breath. Helena felt the air whoosh from her lungs when he breathed out a relieved, “Thank god, you’re alright!”

“Steve, what are you doing here?” Helena questioned, shocked to see him but not ungrateful to find a friendly face in potentially hostile territory. She nuzzled her face into his shoulder and felt comforted by ‘Steve’ embracing her.

“The others and I were brought to this place. How? I’m not sure. We encountered this demon or something that taunted up with a riddle before disappearing into a puff of smoke. He said something about dismantling the false idols where their power translated into endless, flowing glory.” ‘Steve’ recited, his face screwing up in concentration and garnering Helena’s sympathetic squeeze. She couldn’t believe the others were pulled into danger by something of her world, which made her that much more determined to find the thief. One thing at a time though, which meant finding the demon and ending this nightmare. Helena had a small hunch to where the demon would be waiting for her, ‘Steve’, and the others who were somewhere around here.

“The throne room. The demon likely meant the throne room and I know the fastest way there!” Helena rushed through an explanation, thinking time was of the essence and wanting to meet up with the others. They could strategize when they were all together, as a team.

“Oh, I know you do,” ‘Steve’ said, but something was different—namely the flash of dark red where baby blue should be.

Meanwhile, back in the waking world, something was amiss as Steve approached the safe house. He tried pinging Helena several times but there was no answer, which was worrisome. Helena _always_ answered promptly. He glanced around at the nothingness around for any prying eyes before inputting the code and undergoing a handprint scan to unlock the door. As soon as the click of the lock was heard, Steve pushed open the door and activated the lights when he realized the room was pitch black.

If he was concerned before, the lack of disturbance within the safe house and the pitch black made his stomach drop. Steve held his shield in front of his body since he was not in tactical gear and cleared the initial rooms of the house until he found Helena’s body collapsed on the couch. She appeared fine from a distance, except for the low and pained moans coming from her. Her body restlessly scuffles around on the couch and Steve assumed that she was having a nightmare. He dropped his shield to the floor and knelt by Helena’s side when he noticed the amulet levitating and tugging at her neck, glowing with undeniable urgency.

“What’s going on?” Steve whispered as he reached out to grab the amulet but his touch activated an unforeseen chain reaction. The charm zapped him and Steve winced but, not long after, his eyes rolled to the back of his head and his body slumped down to the floor.

His consciousness resumed after the swirling blackness in an unknown, unidentifiable place. Steve gripped at his head while he sat himself off the floor, trying to reclaim his bearings. He had no idea where he was and that was never a good sign. Somehow, Steve absorbed his surroundings and something about where he ended up screamed Epranan. It was the atmosphere, the vibe of the peaceful little island with ancient, unfathomable magic coursing through it. He staggered onto his feet and glanced around, wondering which direction to go when something whizzed past his ear. Steve instinctively whirled around, looking for the source of the noise when the whizzing occurred again. The second time, however, Steve spotted a small ball of light curving back around and coming to a stop before him. He stared at the light and when he tried to reach out and touch it, the orb somehow shied away from him.

The light jumped over his head and floated a little ways down the road before stopping like it was waiting for Steve to follow along. With nowhere to start and his gut instinct telling him the light was harmless, Steve sighed and trailed behind the light happily bouncing down the road of the imagined paradise. They walked a short distance down the road when Steve picked up on voices nearby, one of which he hoped to be Helena’s. He concealed himself behind the cover of a gnarled tree and peered around to see Helena standing next to… him? He blinked twice, three times to make sure he was seeing right.

“How did you figure out that we were trapped in my mind?” Helena asked ‘Steve’, who walked alongside her in his star-spangled uniform. From a sizable distance behind them, Steve narrowed his eyes at the way the imposter would mimic his movements and rest a hand against the small of Helena’s back—trying to lure her into a false sense of security. She was in danger.

“Intuition never led me astray before,” ‘Steve’ remarked with poise and his charismatic confidence, the one Helena admired the most about Steve—besides his unwavering kindness. He gave a rare smile before he turned serious again. “Besides, I had the feeling you were in trouble. I would never let you get hurt,”

“Oh, this is all my fault- I never wanted to put you in danger- or the others!” Helena lamented while the two came to a stop. The palace of the Pantheon was in sight and within the ivory walls with golden trim and floors of marble would be their destination: the throne room. ‘Steve’ could sense victory within his reach and knew that should an oblivious Helena deliver him, her powers would be as good as his. Helena, blissfully unaware, figured that (hopefully) confronting the demon might end the shared nightmare and she, feeling immensely guilty, wanted to make things right by Steve and the others—who she was told were waiting outside to siege the gates by ‘Steve’.

“I could never blame you, Helena,” ‘Steve’ reassuringly told her while his hand teasingly cupped the underside of her chin, the purposeful move making her breath audibly catch and that made Steve realize that he had seen enough.

“I don’t know who you are, but you need to take your hands off of her,” Steve growled, as he decided to take his chances and made himself known, sounding downright pissed. Helena and ‘Steve’ were startled and laid eyes upon- Steve? Helena’s head whipped between ‘Steve’ and Steve, rendered breathless at the sight of two Steves. Oh no, the demon was a shapeshifter and he somehow picked at her weak spot.

“What in the name of the All-Father?” Helena inquired, willing her light to come to her and panicking when she failed to spark a sufficient glow. Her magic flickered weakly and that’s when Helena knew something was wrong, far beyond a crazy dream. 

“The demon! That must be him trying to masquerade as me!” ‘Steve’ exclaimed, trying to sound shocked but the melodrama seeped in. Seeing the real Steve Rogers was a twist he failed to anticipate.

“Not even close. I’m the real Steve Rogers.” Steve argued, not backing down. He regretted not wearing his tactical uniform while making the rescue rendezvous as he could sense the likelihood of a fight becoming unavoidable. He felt his anger pushing against his patience in a tempting clash of wills at the most inopportune time.

“No, you’re not,” ‘Steve’ retorted with a self-righteous finality that acted his denial proved the truth, pulling Helena behind his broad figure protectively. Helena squeaked and she winced at Steve’s grip on her arm, too tight. Steve was always overly conscious about using his strength with her, even if she could match it. “Helena, stay behind me!” ‘Steve’ raised the shield and threw it at Steve with full force, hoping to prove his identity as the “true” Steve Rogers. The only complication: Steve caught it quickly. He gripped his shield through a curled fingers and his baby blues narrowed. If it wasn’t already, this just became personal.

“Helena, you called me while on the deserted field you tracked the thief to, informing me that making it to the tower might be out of the options. I gave you the code and coordinates of the safe house and promised you help was on the way. You were so pale, your face painted with exhaustion.” Steve panted out, recalling the specifics of their last interaction which was the emergency contact in the aftermath of her gryphon battle. Helena’s eyes widened and everything he said was right. 

“The demon would still know that. He probably followed you to the safe house,” ‘Steve’ pointed out, which could make sense. The two Steves narrowed their eyes at each other and descended into nonsensical bickering as Helena, who felt her hearing go in and out of focus, felt overwhelmed. She clamped her hands over her ears and felt something crack within her. Maybe it was the culmination of the last few weeks of compounded stress and suppressed emotions talking, but Helena reached the end of her frazzled rope.

“Stop!” Helena declared over the sound of the two Steves bickering and her voice reverberated boomingly to silence the two. There might be a demon masquerading as one of her teammates and closest friends who wanted to pull the wool over her eyes, but this is was still Helena’s mind. This was her home turf and she refused to be misled in the one place she should feel safe. Her shoulders were trembling and tears threatened to spill from her eyes, but she held firm. Through a shaky breath, Helena pulled her hand from ‘Steve’ and stood in front of him, “This calls for a test. Steve and I have a codeword, Te agapó. Only the real Steve would know what it means. What does it mean?”

“Well that’s simple really,” ‘Steve’ chuckled confidently, which threw Helena and Steve off, leaning in from behind her. Helena’s shoulders tensed up from the contact as his lips brushed against her earlobe, “It means ‘I love you’, Helena.” He whispered, his voice taking on a slight growl. Helena’s heart stopped when ‘Steve’ recited the shameful three little words, unable to prevent a shiver from going down her back. There was no way-

“-it means good luck, ‘let fate guide you’ as you told me on Eprana’s beach,” Steve declared, which made Helena’s heart drop from her chest. She was about to be sick; the demon had nearly fooled her. Helena knew that the Steve standing behind her was not the real Steve Rogers, that his identical voice whispering the destructive ‘I love you’ was nothing more than a beautiful lie. That, and his arm nearly wrapped around her throat was there when it hadn’t been moments before.

“Argh!” Helena gasped, digging her nails into the demon’s arm as it shapeshifted from Steve’s uniformed look to one of ashy, blood-streaked skin. Steve mobilized quickly, slashing the distance between him and the demon who held Helena. The demon constricted its grip and Helena gave a spluttering, choking plea for air. Steve ripped the demon’s arm away from Helena’s throat and yanked the demon closer to him. He brought his shield up and bashed it into the face of the demon, watching the demon stumble backwards with ink black blood freely flowing down its face, coating the cupid’s bow and its upper lip in black. Steve held his shield up between him (and Helena) and the demon while he glanced over his shoulder. He helped Helena up and pulled her to him.

“Helena, are you okay?” Steve inquired, checking her neck for any bruising or injury caused by the demon. His concern, although touching, would need to wait. Helena kept the demon in her sights and spotted how it glanced in the direction of the throne room. It would never reach the throne room, over her dead body.

“I will be, but we have to stop it before it reaches the throne room. It intends to kill us, which means we can’t hold back.” Helena reluctantly explained and Steve nodded, understanding her hesitance. The soldier in him knew that blood would inevitably taint his hands as was the nature of war. But it was his, Helena’s, and millions of lives on the line should the demon emerge victorious—which meant if there ever was a pass to kill, it would be now.

“Then, we fight.” Steve declared and with their agreement, he and Helena raced toward the demon. Steve got to it first and the two engaged in a hand to hand exchange, where Steve had the upper hand. Behind him, Helena closed her eyes in concentration and summoned any scrap of power left within her to form a weapon. Her hand to hand combat skills had considerably improved under Steve’s training, but she preferred a weapon. Helena felt the inklings of magic swirling around her but she was fighting against the demon’s dark aura diming the power of the light… which meant the demon needed to be weakened. Steve was landing punches solidly and Helena knew how she could help. She used the demon’s focus on Steve to her advantage and snuck behind the demon. She looped her arms through his fighter’s guard and manipulated them to pull behind him at an uncomfortable angle, causing the demon to yelp loud enough for the heavens to hear.

“Have at him,” Helena told Steve, who recognized what she was thinking with an impressed twinkle in his eyes. That was a good play, some quick thinking on her part. The demon realized what that meant too by the frightened, ghastly afraid expression it donned. He messed with the wrong super soldier and demigoddess duo, hadn’t he?

“Maybe we can work something out?” The demon frantically suggested, wriggling against Helena restraining it. Steve cracked his knuckles and set his shield down to the side, showing he meant business. He never would consider doing this to a regular villain or opponent, but this demon earned it.

“Not a chance,” Steve replied, winding his fist back and delivering a devastating three-hit combination that could pulverize bones. Helena held the demon in an iron-clad vice grip to keep it in place, making sure the demon received its well-earned suffering. The demon coughed and crumpled to its knees when Helena released it from her arms. No longer being held up, the pain overwhelmed the demon and it made itself one with the floor. Steve studied it with a frown and crossly furrowed brows, “That first one was for laying your hands on Helena, the second one was for pretending to be me, and the third one was for putting your hands on Helena again.” Steve stepped out the way when he spotted the newly formed dagger in Helena’s hands, pulsing in renewed strength as the demon tampering with her powers was weak. She stepped over the demon’s abdomen and crouched low, bringing her face close to it. She appeared significantly hurt in her eyes, contradicting the emotionless demeanor she forced out. She held the dagger in the air, letting it gleam.

“To the deepest pit of the Underworld with you!” Helena gasped out and plunged the dagger straight through the demon’s heart, watching it cough blood and feebly beg for mercy of her. She closed her eyes to shut out the image. She hated killing but there was no option. Demons were not to be trusted as they only looked out for their best interest.

“Grimsbane- Forgive me, my lord,” The demon managed to get out through the gurgling of blood and Helena, unsure why, felt a chill run down her spine at the name muttered by the demon. She nearly asked who Grimsbane was but the demon was already dead. She looked over at Steve and stood up from the lifeless body of the demon, taking in his perplexed expression and parted lips. However, whatever Steve wanted to say would never come as both he and Helena’s eyes rolled back and they collapsed to the ground—consumed in darkness.

His eyes fluttering open, Steve sucked in a terrified breath when he remembered everything that happened in the dream state and the circumstances that brought him to the safe house. Without delay or concern about processing the whole demon attempting to steal Helena’s body and kill the two of them by masquerading as him, Steve staggered onto his knees from the slumped position and leaned over Helena.

“Helena, please wake up. Helena- Please be okay,” He whispered while his fingers pressed against her neck in search of a pulse. His baby blue eyes watched Helena’s face for signs of life while he confirmed a pulse and the rise and fall of her chest. Unexpectedly, her eyes snapped open in the emotionless gold of her battle aura. Helena’s body recoiled away from Steve’s touch and she clenched her fist, forming a wickedly sharp dagger in her hand.

“Get back!” Helena’s voice strained while she pressed a dagger tip against his sternum, stilling Steve with panic. He knew Helena would never hurt him but the cold, unforgiving realization that he might be in danger was not far from his mind. He held his hands up defensively, showing her that he planned on no sudden movements or meant her any harm. 

“Helena, it’s me.” Steve assured in a steady, calm voice while swallowing thickly. Her blank gaze remained unfazed by his declaration, but her lips twisted into a hurt grimace and her brows drooped dejectedly. Her hand nearly pulled back, but Helena forced herself to stay; Steve watched her every movement as it spelled out life or death for him.

“The monster lied to me once before,” Helena remarked, her voice cracking weakly and she seemed more fearful than enraged. She was not going to be fooled again by the demon who dared to steal Steve’s image. The dark knew where to strike her the worst and she feared for not only her life, but the lives of the other Avengers. The wrong move and she would slit the imposter’s throat without a blink or remorse. 

“Helena- It means ‘Let fate guide you’, which you told me on Eprana’s beach the day the island was burning,” Steve blurted out suddenly, hoping that might soothe her and show her that he was the real deal. Confusion flickered across her face and Helena’s hand started shaking. She examined him for signs of deceit when she recalled the last scattered memories from the hazy dream state and then she remembered- the demon was slain dead. Helena knew, then, that before her was the actual Steve, who came to retrieve her from the failed capture mission. She was in no danger; Steve was real and safe and kneeling before her with her dagger pushed against his chest-

“Steve? I- I’m so sorry,” Helena’s voice wavered, and she dropped the dagger from her shaking hand, the blade harmlessly dissolving into the nothingness from which it came. She furiously rubbed at her eyes, shoving away the exhaustion and the urge to cry. Steve’s expression fell and he, more than anything else, was relieved that she was relatively alright. Shaken but with a spirit that would recover. He wanted to give Helena a moment before he asked questions that might overwhelm her. So, he breathlessly whispered to her that it was alright, that he was alright until she calmed down significantly. She rubbed her nose with the back of her hand, and she stared at her lap. 

“Back there, what did the demon whisper in your ear? I couldn’t hear anything, but you went dangerously pale and I was worried about you.” Steve questioned, sounding nothing short of sincere. Although him asking was well within his right after the encounter with the darkness they shared, Helena didn’t want to talk about the demon’s words. Hearing ‘I love you’ through Steve’s voice and the stark realization of the beautiful lie, that the one she trusted was a false vision. Helena stomached a surprisingly abundant amount of disappointment inside of her heart.

Why was she so upset by it? There was nothing to be upset about- right?

One of Helena’s hands absentminded rubbed up and down her thigh while she mustered up something to say, conveying a nervousness. She allowed herself a shaky breath before composing her features. She refused to break down, she refused to cry or make herself feel small.

“It’s nothing important, I promise.” Helena replied meekly, not wanting to open the whole can of worms related to a little white lie she held for several months. Since Eprana, Steve had used the word like a secret between the two of them. During missions—before they rushed into the heat of battle—Steve would tell it to her, and Helena began to reflexively say it back. She didn’t have the heart to or even know how to tell Steve what it meant.

“Okay,” Steve reached out and placed his hand atop of Helena’s, meant to be a gesture of comfort and received willingly by Helena. She felt relieved that Steve didn’t choose to push her further on the demon’s words, but he figured that she wanted to forget whatever the demon whispered into her ears during the tense encounter. Steve could understand that; he would feel the same. Still, there were lingering questions he had. Steve cleared his throat, “That brings me to ask: are we in danger? Is the tower safe for the two of us or the others? I need to inform Tony about the tower’s security and what we can do to after this or-” 

“The tower is warded.” Helena interrupted, lacing their nearby hands together hesitantly. She had another secret up her sleeve: the tower was enchanted. The Pantheon taught her that evil demons would seek out the light when it was prone, vulnerable. So, she warded the tower using spells and charms to protect her and the inhabitants of the tower. It was for their safety and she never told as the issue never came up- until now, that is.

“What?” Steve turned to Helena for an explanation and saw that she was meeting his eyes for the first time in a while. She alternated between moments of bravery by making eye contact before returning to avoiding his gaze like she did when they first met. The ordeal profoundly shook her, wasn’t she?

“I cast several charms and spells over the tower to ward off malevolent spirits or demonic entities. Often, that is the first thing I do when staying somewhere unfamiliar, somewhere I am potentially vulnerable. But it slipped my mind tonight-” Helena explained but in her exhausted, emotionally drained state, it likely sounded more like the ramblings of a crazy woman. Steve heard the hitch in her voice when she cut herself off, fearing that she was about to burst into tears. After weeks of shoving herself through the wringer and bleeding herself dry, Helena was on the fast track to a meltdown—which the others feared. She was too hard on herself.

“Helena, come here.” Steve opened his arms and Helena tumbled into them, biting back a pained hiss as she found herself reminded of her busted rib and the burn on her leg chaffing against the couch with uncomfortable friction. She bit down on the inside of her cheek to keep from screaming in pain and forced down the gag of nausea accompanying the tender wounds.

“Steve, I might have gotten a little bruised up,” Helena squeaked out, trying (and failing) to keep her voice level and free of strain. Steve’s shoulders stiffened upon hearing the pain laced between the lines that Helena tried to hide.

“What are we talking?” Steve’s eyes scanned her body for any sight of injuries, and he turned her chin from side to side, carefully examining her face. Helena didn’t shrink away from his touch or push him away.

“Bruised rib, minor burns on leg.” Helena mumbled, clearly ashamed, and she refused to meet Steve’s eyes. Steve’s brow furrowed and he grasped her leg, gently turning it to see the angry red marring her skin in a burn. He swallowed, feeling guilty that he let her go off on her own without a fight. She promised that she would be fine on her own and he believed her, confident in her ability to fight. But he chided himself for neglecting to consider how her insistence on isolation might get her hurt or, worse, killed.

“We have medical supplies back at the tower. I’m going to take you _home_.”


	9. Destiny

Helena worked on recovery, physically and mentally, after her hitting rock bottom. The nightmare realm served as a wake-up call for Helena to snap back from her downward spiral and tackle the issue with a new approach. But the road to healing was a long one.

It began with smaller things like her getting a full night’s sleep, not spending days locked away in her room, and actively engaging with the others. If she was seen for a meal, that was progress. The others noticed, along with those small details, that something changed between Steve and Helena’s interactions. Somehow, they had gotten closer. For every step along the way, Steve was there. Naturally, that raised some questions from the other Avengers with some—Tony—nosier than the others. Steve hovered around her like a protector when she needed it, and the inklings of progress came from Steve’s reassuring presence. Neither Helena nor Steve shared any details with the team to preserve Helena’s privacy. Her mind was invaded, used against her like a prison—something the others might understand but a story she was not yet ready to tell.

Helena bouncing back might seem miraculous, given the timeframe, but she credited her desire to make Steve proud. He was the closest thing she had to a friend, beside Natasha and Clint in the team. He, unlike anyone else, earned a modicum of her trust and kept what she shared with him protected. Helena promised him that she would do better, be kinder to herself. She was kind to others unfailingly, to a fault even. So, why didn’t she deserve such kindness from herself?

But make no mistake; the hunt for the thief was still on and more focused than ever. Once Helena recovered to her prime, she resumed her search for answers, and she decided to pursue her best lead thus far—which came from the demon before it died.

_Grimsbane_.

She and Steve heard that name from the demon, who died before she had the chance for further questioning, but the name stuck out to her as important. She had never heard of Grimsbane before then, and something about that name sent chills racing down her spine. Never before had her instincts screamed for her to investigate so violently, and Helena was refusing to neglect her instincts as she had done within the past. So, she consulted text after text for any mention of Grimsbane. She scoured the ancient libraries of the Isle of Destiny and hidden libraries lost from the mortal world, buried in secrecy and for the protection of the texts within their shelves. She read through lore, legends, bestiaries, first-hand accounts from ancient magic scholars.

Her first stroke of luck came when she uncovered a dusty journal, written by quill and ink on faintly preserved parchment. She flipped through the opening pages for some indication of the author, with none to be found. With the book in hand and curiosity piqued, Helena departed from her room and through the tower until she reached the ledge overlooking the city. The breeze of the evening brushed against her high ponytail, tickled her cheeks pink, and bounced impenetrably off her oversized sweater. She, undaunted by the long fall (should she tumble from the side), seated herself on the ledge with her legs hanging off the front and opened the book to read in the day’s fading light. She settled the book in her lap and skimmed the journal’s dated entry from years before she was born. She intentionally handled the pages with care as they might evaporate into dust in her hand if she were too rough with them as they appeared ancient. That was despite the more recent date of the 1970s. The penmanship was rather sloppy but not completely unreadable, reminding Helena of her father’s handwriting.

_December 1976, _

_Another hunt successful. An outbreak of Al in a small Nigerian village erupted over two weeks ago, and I eliminated the summoning stone and the individual using the stone against her fellow villagers out of twisted jealousy. _

_There has been a disturbing trend of powerful artifacts, which house demons and beastly creatures of myth, falling into the hands of mortals who do significant damage out of envy and pride and greed. I am looking into all the disappearances of these artifacts and trying to establish a pattern behind the beasts unleashed. _

_First, it was Jinn in Saudi Arabia unleashed by the crown prince. Next, a cyclops destroying the mountains in Germany, which were wrongfully attributed to freak earthquakes. After that, a hydra rampant across the Sahara Desert with reports of at least thirty travelers reported as missing around the same area. Then, it was the Al outbreak, which resulted in nearly a dozen infant deaths and at least three mother fatalities before I caught the culprit. _

_What will be next? A herd of Gorgons ambling through caves and transforming unsuspecting people into stone works? A flock of sirens causing mysterious shipwrecks along the coast of Spain and killing sailors indiscriminately? A Sphinx appearing in the middle of Sunset Boulevard and rampantly devouring hapless tourists who fail to answer its riddles. As far as I can tell, the beasts do not seem to indicate a conscious choice of monster. That leaves practically nothing for me to go off of, but I’ve solved plenty of mysteries on less._

_What I do know is that The King of Darkness will never escape from that prison of his. I have a sinking suspicion this is his work, although that is merely a suspicion for now. I recall speaking with the All-Father as he deemed me prepared to learn more of the King of Darkness, and he is one piece of work. He can influence all he likes, but no mortal will be powerful enough to break him free of his prison. _

  
“This demon king referenced in the text might be this Grimsbane character,” Helena whispered out loud, and she understood why his name was never explicitly mentioned within the text. Names had power. Whoever wrote this document knew that fact and consciously avoided writing Grimsbane by direct naming. Instead, he was known as the ‘Demon King’ and for a good reason, from what Helena gleaned. She scoured through the pages and read of the author’s exploits and encounters with creatures of the Underworld. From what she gathered, Grimsbane used influence to manipulate susceptible mortals into doing his bidding by whispering in their dreams, working his way into their unconscious minds with his agenda. So rarely did Grimsbane deploy his most devout disciples or even his ferocious monstrosities he boasted as his children. Demons and beasts rallied underneath his banner, and yet, he relied on the ingenuity of mortal minds to act as pawns. Their ambitions for him to warp, their vices of avarice and envy and lust and wrath for him to prey on, Grimsbane relied on human weaknesses to achieve his desires. Mortals were the perfect target for darkness to inhabit.

“What else can you tell me?” Helena whispered to the book as if she were speaking to the author, and she flipped through pages, skimming for relevant content. She ended up skipping nearly seven pages until she discovered the next corresponding entry, which consisted of a prophecy. Helena’s breath caught in her throat, and she read the prophecy multiple times, her eyes greedily devouring the information. Anything might be the key she needed to defeat Grimsbane.   
  


_Risen from the ashes of creation, inhabiting the vessel of corruption that once defied the Pantheon _

_The King of Darkness reigned terror against the ancient world. _

_He sought to rip open the gates of paradise and destroy the epicenter of good and light. _

_Corrupted by his ambition, his greed, and the call to lingering darkness there_

_He crowned himself the King of Darkness and all creatures that fall under his shadowy domain._

_Created to stop the tyranny of the dark came a warrior of light _

_He called himself Guardian._

_Wielding chosen weapons of the Pantheon and magic coursing through his veins _

_The Guardian defeated darkness in a fierce battle, which stole Eprana from mortal eyes._

_Although defeated, the King of Darkness remained alive and sealed away. _

_The Guardian laid down his weapons, destined to belong to his son and his son’s son._

_The line of warriors belonging to the light would continue as long as darkness lived._

_As the Guardianship passed from son and son_

_The King of Darkness shall remain concealed and contained in holy chains._

_Until the ravaging, where shadow and stone will reign over the earth _

_Not a soul shall escape the misery cast by the demon’s greed._

_All is not lost as a band of heroes unite under a single flag. _

_A woman of the light and a disciple turned good shall bring an end to the King of Darkness. _

_Written in their blood is the unbreakable bond of sisterhood._

_One of the light and one of the reformed dark shall usher in a new golden age to the world.  
  
_

Written between the lines and in the margins of the pages were furiously scribbled annotations by the author of the journal. These markings were filled with questions about parts of the prophecy, curious as to the identity of the two women at the center of Grimsbane’s foretold demise. The first half she knew; she knew the history of her people and how her ancestor Guardians came to be during a time of great need. Uncovering the name of the great evil was no revolutionary or unique act on her behalf; Helena needed something more than a name to defeat the King of Darkness, an epithet seemingly living up to his reputation.

_I summoned a council with Cohnos, Lorerin, and Nixtia this morning and questioned them about the King of Darkness. I was no longer content with the half-truths and evasive answers I had received in the past. As my earlier suspicions were proved right, I deemed myself ready and with a right to know the intentions of my enemy. _

_I never expected to learn what I did. _

_The first thing of note to chronicle is the King of Darkness would never send more than a low-level beast or a manipulated mortal to carry out his bidding. That is, concerning the Guardians. All Guardian matters were punctuated by a threat by mortal hands (influenced by The King of Darkness) or a beast escaping its confines on its own. The King of Darkness curated his own process for tapping into the consciousness of the creature and imposing his will on the beast, mindless and unaware of its base urges separate from the King of Darkness’ alluring whisper. _

_Therefore, the use of sentient demons or humanoid henchmen arguably higher on the hierarchy to dispatch a Guardian is considered a notable departure from the norm. The belief of Nixtia is that The King of Darkness will send more advanced henchmen to complete his bidding should he find the Guardian enough of a threat to him. _

_Additionally, no Guardian willingly pursued the avenue of killing The King of Darkness throughout the history of the lineage. Not even after he destroyed Eprana, manufactured the Black Plague, caused both The Great War and World War II through his influence, and a slew of other historical nightmares displaying the worst of humanity. Other than making sure he remained subdued and the mortal world remained unaware of the mythological threats living in artifacts among them, the Guardians of the past lived a detached existence from their job. None wished to engage in combat with or entangle themselves with the affairs of the King of Darkness. _

_Somehow, I feel mutually distraught and sickened by the revelation. Cohnos warned that my efforts to push back against the dark king would fail should I seek to destroy him. For only the prophesized heroine would succeed against the darkness as Fate foretold and Fate, according to the Pantheon, laid out of their hands. She is a spiritual being that even they, gods, were subject to. The directive of the Guardians merely was to combat and stop the expansion of the King of Darkness, until the heroine of prophecy emerged to restore the supremacy of light. _   
  


So, the Pantheon advised a strategy of containment and detachment when referring to Grimsbane. Upon reading that new information, Helena recognized the burst of realization marking an epiphany sparkling to life. The prophecy called for a woman of the light to bring an end to Grimsbane while the journal entries indicated that he only sent particular creatures after Guardians he deemed threats to his power. Therefore, Grimsbane considered her a threat to him and for what, she was determined to uncover. That left her to wonder that if she, as the first woman of the Guardian lineage, was destined to end Grimsbane’s reign of terror through a permanent death? Would she be the warrior who struck fear into his heart, made him see his empire of darkness crumble into nothingness before his eyes.

As Helena leaped from page to page, she observed a worrisome phenomenon of the entries growing shorter and shorter. Pages turned into a single page, turned into a half-pages, turned into quarter-pages of nonsensical writings devoid of the once brilliant and well-documented insights. That was until Helena reached the end of the journal, where she found the supposed final entry, reaching nearly three pages long.

_Dearly beloved, _

_If you are reading this letter, then I assume I have passed on to be with the Pantheon and the heroes residing among the Isle of Destiny. I hope I have done enough to prepare you for what you will encounter as the next potential Guardian. You have a difficult road ahead of you, but you are better equipped than I. My one regret is not telling you the truth sooner, but that is no matter. I do not have much longer on this earthly plane. _

_My health is failing. My body is dying. I am dying. _

_The doctors cannot figure out what ails me, and each day I deteriorate in my condition. I watched you grow into your own, and I desperately wish that it would have been under better circumstances that you flourished into your own. Your intelligence is unmatched, and no beast you encounter shall outsmart you. Your grace shall bestow upon you the glow belonging to a god, someone beyond mortal capacity like those you walk among right now. But most of all, your kindness shall be your greatest weapon and your greatest blessing. You were meant to be more than a warrior of holy light, but a bringer of mercy to those who shall redeem themselves in the name of the Pantheon. _

_Each day passes, and I know it is another day less that I have with you, my beloved. You were meant to be a far better Guardian than I could ever dream of being. Better than me or my father or his father or even the first Guardian. You will be the ideal Guardian—a bastion of hope, a beacon of light, and the warrior that embodies all that is good within this flawed but trying world. I was promised that, although my passing will hurt (and I sincerely apologize for that), you will discover profound happiness again. You are stronger than any trial planned for you by Fate and her unpredictable wiles. _

_This is my final goodbye to you, one coherent and not filled with the inevitable tears awaiting my departure from this world. When you discover this journal, I can only hope that some of the pain has healed or you have come to peace with my passing. I love you, my beloved. I dearly love you and cannot wait for the day that we meet again. _

_I wish you goodbye, my sweet-_

Helena stopped reading the book and turned her head away, feeling her eyes stinging in the wind and wishing she stopped before touching the last page.

She knew who the journal once belonged to.

With shaking hands and tear-stained cheeks, Helena closed the book and her head hung in agony while her throat closed on the choked sob clawing its way out. Helena squeezed her eyes shut, and the tears tumbled from the side of the tower down to the streets below, like the cathartic rain. Sitting in her lap was the last reminder of her late father, long dead ten years and yet freshly painful as a still open wound would be. Helena sat, unmoving from the ledge, and watched the sun dip down below the horizon, and the touch of night cover the sky in darkness. Tears rolled down her face and time ticked by unhurried and painfully nonchalant. 

“Papa, why did you have to leave?” Helena sobbed into the open air of the night, watching as the invisible wind carried her sorrow out above the city and hopefully, toward the sky where her father laid to rest. Her shoulders hunched over, her stomach twisted into suffocating knots, and she curled into herself, feeling emotionally shut down at the thought of her father. She still needed him around and he couldn’t be there by the cruel intentions of Fate and tragic circumstance.

He, of all people, would understand the burden of Guardianship on someone’s shoulders, but he couldn’t help her now. Helena was lost without him.

“Wherever you are, I hope that- I want you to be proud of me, papa.” Helena furiously wiped at her face, feeling the puffiness and stinging of tears. She was talking to the sky, hoping that her sorrow could be felt by her father. Finding his journal left her despondent and outraged and… and… hurt, more than anything. Helena forced herself away from the ledge and no longer feeling in the mood for research, decided to head back inside. She kept her head down as she passed by the others, not wanting them to see her cry.

Helena ducked into her room and closed the door behind her. She made careful care to set the book down on her desk and strip out of her clothing, leaving them in a puddle on the floor. She crawled into bed in the darkness of the room and laid there, nestled in the sheets but cradling a broken heart in the safety of her chest. She shuddered with several sobs as she forced herself to be still and open to the darkness consuming her.

She was met with restless sleep, where she faded in and out of consciousness, unaware of how much time passed between lapses into the darkness unaccounted for by memory. She guessed somewhere between three and five times where she succumbed to the promise of sleep, only to wake up feeling exhausted and emotionally drained from the revelations of the journal. When her eyes grew heavy, Helena fully expected another false outcome but allowed herself to be swept away by exhaustion.

However, she found herself in the shadows of a room, too lucid to be a dream. Helena snapped to alertness and resisted lulling herself into a false sense of security after the nightmare realm. Something inside of her told her that she was neither asleep nor awake, which could only mean one thing.

“A vision,” Helena whispered to herself as the darkness rolled away, and she stepped into the light—revealing the sketchy surroundings of a warehouse. Helena kept her guard up and her heartbeat accelerated in her ears.

“Psssst! Hey- please help me!” The presence of another voice caused Helena to whirl around to see a woman, chained and kneeling in a circle made of black salt and ash. Her eyes were dovish and innocent but glowing a light blue. She rustled against the chains weakly to no avail and gave Helena a pleading look. “I’ve been reaching through the mortal barrier and calling for help for days. I am glad someone received my message. My name is Megara, and I need help.”

“Hey there, Megara. I am Solstice.” Helena smoothly introduced herself, used to prefacing with her alias when she spoke with strangers. Megara’s eyes lit up in recognition, and she wiggled in the chains again, hearing them clatter against her.

“Solstice, you’re the one they have been talking on and on about. You must be the only one who can help me!” Megara exclaimed, but then glanced around like she feared being overheard by someone nearby. That set off warning sirens in Helena’s mind that something was amiss behind the scenes.

“Okay, tell me what’s wrong,” Helena requested calmly, still processing everything thus far about the vision and juggling the little voice that the ‘they’ Megara spoke of might be the thief among her scattered thoughts.

“I am a sorceress, typically of the necromantic variety. I refused to help them with a revival spell, so they plan to do a ritual with me instead. I think they are going to strip me of my powers, and I’m afraid they are going to kill me. They didn’t say what they were trying to revive, but I do know they plan to use an artifact: The Chalice of Genesis.” Megara frantically explained, and Helena knew exactly what artifact she spoke of. The Chalice of Genesis was a rare, almost fabled artifact among necromancers as a resurrection conduit, the most powerful one created, the holy grail of necromancy and the other dark arts. Using such an object could likely revive the most dangerous of beasts while bypassing the reformation period—making it a deadly weapon.

“I’m going to rescue you, okay? Tell me how to find you in as much detail as you can.” Helena assured her, wanting Megara to know that someone was coming for her. Helena couldn’t imagine the panic she must feel at being held hostage, and her first instinct was to save this young woman from danger, even though it was the dead of the night. A hero’s job meant putting life on hold when a threat arose, and Helena understood that meant dealing with her grief later.

“Okay- Well, I remember being taken into the forest. It would be the edge closest to the city and past the old closed powerplant. Um, from there, I think they pushed me through a portal along the trees, and it should still be there. It’ll take you to the series of warehouses where they have their operations. When you look at the row directly in front of the portal, I am in the third warehouse on the right.” Megara relayed to Helena, eyes darting around nervously between each additional detail shared with Helena.

“Keep fighting. I am on my way,” Helena promised while repeating the details to herself, not wanting to miss a single part. _Edge of the forest close to city, portal, third warehouse on the right. Edge of the forest close to city, portal, third warehouse on the right-_

“Hurry!” Megara cried and the connection between the two cut out, propelling Helena back into the waking world. She sat up in her bed and threw on the nearest piece of clothing, an oversized shirt folded on her dresser. Helena scrambled to her desk and ran her hands through a small chest, hidden underneath the false bottom of a drawer. She selected a black diamond necklace from the chest, and she recalled it to be a portal maker. She grabbed the communication device that belonged to her and connected to the tower’s mainframe, knowing she would need that too. A snap of her fingers to awaken the amulet and cloak her in the Solstice armor later and Helena was dressed for war. She knew that the sorceress might not have much time left and she wouldn’t wait until sunrise to launch a search party. It was the dead of the night, and Helena had no intention of waking the others for a mission. She could handle this herself.

She ran to her window and pushed it open, encouraging the breeze to sweep into the room of the chilly nighttime. Ashy clouds began to roll over the clear skies and eclipse the moon behind a shroud, leaving Helena with a foreboding dread arising in her stomach. Without second-guessing herself, Helena propped up onto the ledge and leaped from the window, relying on her wings to guide her. Megara instructed her to fly toward the forest and land among the edge, as there would be a portal generated there for her captors to move freely. Helena could use the portal to teleport outside the warehouses where she was held. When at the warehouses, she would enter the third one on the right.

Helena soared above the city and out beyond the twinkling lights of skyscrapers and late-night traffic, past the abandoned powerplant, and landed around the dirt road that led deep into the forest. She sidled up against one of the trees and pressed her back flat against the trunk, pulled her hood and mask over her face, and inched her way around through the dark. The last thing Helena wanted was potential enemies spotting her before she spotted them.

She saw the portal opening nestled between two trees and patrolled by a lone guard, meaning Helena needed a distraction. So, she prepared to breach the warehouse. She first grabbed the necklace with the black diamond and whispered a quick prayer into the gemstone, observing it adopting a slick sheen to signal the gem was active. She tethered the portal destination to the warehouses and dropped the necklace on the ground. Her next move was to program two sets of coordinates into the Avenger communicator: her current location and a message in Morse code to inform that she would be in the third warehouse on the right side. She programmed a delayed send and directed it toward Steve. She set her timer for one hour, meaning that if she wasn’t back from the rescue mission in an hour… Steve would get the emergency alert and would hopefully come with the others. She hoped it wouldn’t come to that, but she needed to be prepared for the worst.

Helena set down the communicator beside the portal necklace, resting up against the nearest tree trunk, exhaling out her fears and expelling them from her mind. She had no room for doubt—this was a rescue mission.

Helena scooped up a decent size stone from a foot away, loaded it up in one hand, and threw it with the speed and force of a shot put. The stone rustled in the trees over fifty feet away and grabbed the attention of the guard, who grabbed their measly dagger and went to check out the rustling within the trees. That left the coast clear for Helena to streak from the trees and through the portal, immediately seeking out cover from behind a stack of crates. She snuck glances to determine the coast to be clear, Helena sprinted across the open view as fast yet quiet as she humanly could. She brushed against the wall of the warehouse until she reached the doors of the third, which were opened. Helena slipped inside and into the darkness.

She saw a figure in the circle of black salt and dust slumped over and sprinted to Megara, sword formed in hand to cut lose her chains. Helena reached out to touch Megara’s shoulder but gasped when her hand slipped through her and the silhouette flickered. She recoiled her hand and the open door she raced through slammed shut. The lights overhead crackled, and some fizzled out, dimming the room.

Helena knew she wasn’t alone, as evidenced by the maniacal laugh echoing from the shadows and warping off the walls of the warehouse, making Helena grip her sword tighter in her hands.

“As predicted, you came Solstice. You almost had me, I’ll admit. You were a worthy rival and I find it quite a shame…” The thief leisurely strolled out from the shadows, flanked by two hellhounds with rubies for eyes and blood dripping from their fangs. The thief appeared rather ordinary, which perhaps was the most insidious part of all. They blended into the crowd, able to vanish like a ghost in the wind. Their eyes, a dulled slate grey, displayed no recourse or sense of remorse within them. There was almost a bored imprudence playing out, and Helena swallowed back her disappointment within herself. Who knew how many demons lingered in the shadows of the warehouse? Helena watched the thief circle around her akin to the hungry lion and the armed gladiator of the Colosseum, her skin crawling underneath their detached smile. When they trailed off tellingly with that wickedly sharp grin, Helena knew.

She walked right into a trap and Helena understood that there was only one way she would emerge alive. She needed to fight, intending to kill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Tumblr (@queen-kass-the-writer) for additional content on Helena, Eprana, the Isle of Destiny, or the story in general! Please leave a kudos/comment if you enjoyed the series.


	10. Legend

Surrounded from all sides, Helena knew there was no running or escaping this, nor would she want to. She had the thief face to face. Granted, that was where they wanted her, but nothing stopped her from turning this situation around.

“So, you’re the thief,” Helena supposed, not inquiring or posing some confusion as to their identity. She knew in her heart that the being standing before her was none other than her unknown enemy from the last few months. She would bet on her life that if she reached out to their magic signature, the residual magic would match. Helena reached behind her back and she felt the sword forming from thin air. The thief eyed the materializing sword and Helena’s stoic expression, from what wasn’t covered by the mask and hood, as signs of her surprising willingness to fight.

“You don’t seem all that afraid, Solstice.” The thief studied Helena with a disgusted curl of their lip when she seemed unafraid of them or the realization that she was outnumbered at least fifteen creatures to one Guardian. Those odds were daunting, even for a demigoddess. Helena tilted her head and thankful for how her eyes hid behind the emotionless shield of gold, knowing that she conveyed too much emotion through her eyes.

“What do I have to fear when I believe in the Pantheon’s greatness?” Helena questioned brashly when she reached behind her head and removed the sword from the sheath. She angled the sword between her and the thief, letting the glint of the light blade light up her facial features through the darkness. The thief hissed at the mention of the Pantheon and the hellhounds skirted back from the power of the sword, known as the Lightbringer from what she recently uncovered, cowering in fear. Helena found strength in knowing that she was divinely touched and protected behind a shield of her faith. Therefore, she showed no cowardice when facing the monster who caused her such misery and attempted to break her—she refused to.

“You idealistic fool. You are as worthless to your gods as a lamb set aside for the slaughter and no amount of prayer or belief in your false gods shall save you from your fate. No begging at the feet of ambivalent beings shall deliver you from a life of pain and misery destined for mortal hands. Ichor in your veins be damned, you naïve little wench,” The thief bellowed furiously, balling their hands into white-knuckled fists compared to the ashen grey of their body. The hellhounds flanking them growled hungrily, but they silenced the hounds with a downward slash of their hand. They clenched their jaw, “I hoped that the shapeshifter would handle you, but you proved to be more of an inconvenience than previously assumed. No matter. I shall deal with you myself.” The thief snapped their fingers, and the hellhounds launched for Helena, growling and snarling.

“Blessed Nixtia, I humbly come to you for your enchantment and blessings. I wish you to find my heart worthy of a warrior and courage tempered like the finest of steel through the flames of conflict. War is an inevitable evil, but you, patroness of warriors, shall deliver me through whatever challenges I face. Bless my heavenly light with the power befitting your most devoted of servants, harden my heart with pride to survive, and find me well within your merciful grace. Glorify me with your protection and your collective strength!” Helena exclaimed, swiftly twisting her blade and watching as twin beams of light reflected from the edge of Lightbringer. The light pierced the hide of the hellhounds, resulting in a burning sensation that caused the hounds to collapse. They howled miserably and snarled, but the light proved enough to incinerate them on the spot. The thief flew into a rage and more shadows moved before Helena’s eyes, making her wonder whether it was an illusion.

“Praying won’t save you! So, I suggest that you quit before you anger me,” The thief demanded as their tone was far from requesting or allowing for some leniency. Helena refused to cave or bow down to this fiend. The thief took her silence as a challenge and decided to put the demigoddess brat in her place. She forgot that she was not in control, they were, “My lord Grimsbane the Lost One told me all about you and his plans for your abysmal world. He thinks so lowly of humankind. To him, their sole worth depends on how he can manipulate their minds and twist their weak wills into perfect weapons. Humans are messy and squabbling creatures meant to be pawns, nothing more or less.”

“No,” Helena denied, feeling her pulse accelerate in her ears. She knew better than that. Humans were flawed, yes. But they were worth more than being used and masters of their own destiny. She firmly believed that fate held plans for all living things in the end, but the journey was theirs to take. So rarely did Helena allow anger to consume her, but the culmination of finding the thief and the months of emotional distress awakened a flame within her heart that soon spiraled into an inferno. 

“You cavort around with these humans, who are beneath you. You call them your friends and companions when they are not your equal. You disgust me for even considering them worth more than a sparing glance, much less the mercy of being smitten into a grease stain on the ground they walk.” Helena didn’t understand why the thief despised humans so much, nor what about her faith irked them so, but she had no intention of stopping. Yeah, those humans were her friends, and they were the best friends she ever had—the kind she would die for.

“Humans are clever, determined, and kind. Granted, some are not any of these or all of these. But that doesn’t mean they deserve to live any less. Humans can be resourceful and talented and brave. They can do great things. Their kind is worth more than what you think. Humanity is filled with good and bad, balanced out as all things of the universe should be.” Helena retorted, building up humanity and all the good belonging to it. Being on Earth, while knowing her heritage made her see more clearly about the great things humankind was capable of.

“Why am I not surprised that you seem enthralled by them? They have nothing to offer while you once rested at the side of divinity. Your gods fooled you into believing that protecting humanity was worth it, although they consider humans inferior beings. It is sad really,” The thief mocked her from outside the circle and while the shadows behind them shifted ominously, almost with the promise of a whisper. Helena glared at the thief, and they continued on, unfazed. “Grimsbane would prefer these maggots as statues and he will do anything to see his vision to fruition, deposing you as necessary. You will never live to see the day your precious Earth and its humans are wiped from existence, and the Isle of Destiny’s gates are ripped apart by my lord. He shall kill the Gods one by one, casting them from grace. All the misery and suffering that will ensue by Grimsbane’s hands shall be your doing, your failure to protect this disgusting world.”

“Then, I will never let that happen,” Helena remarked as she formed the shield in her free hand, gleaming with the luster of polished bronze. That was no threat; it was a promise. She twirled the sword and eclipsed the room in a brighter glow of light, pushing back against the darkness where the demons hid. For once, Helena felt overcome with confidence and hellbent on emerging victorious. She knew that was the ichor running through her veins calling to her, beckoning her to rise above the fire like the phoenix on flaming wings.

“So be it,” The thief shook their head and turned away from her as the shadows whispered amongst themselves. Helena readied herself for a battle as the thief turned their back to her, an insult nod needing to be spoken. They didn’t consider her a worthy enough threat. “You could’ve been so much greater. Instead, you are your own worst enemy.” They ominously declared and stepped back when something else stepped forward from the background. The shadow being flickered as it stepped into the light and Helena observed its shape morphing until she stared into a reflection of herself down to the details of her armor, except for the ruby-red eyes where blue would be. The shadow clone wielded a sword of its own.

“Bless the Pantheon,” The shadow clone mockingly mimicked her voice, accent and all. Helena narrowed her eyes and slammed her sword against her shield. She held no fear of an illusion bearing her face, for she knew the truth.

“Are you supposed to frighten me? I am afraid it’s not working,” Helena remarked emotionlessly toward the thief, under the assumption that the shapeshifter was working under their directive.

“I am you improved. I am what you could be if you were wise like Lord Grimsbane,” The shadow clone hissed and circled around Helena, prowling in a predatory march. Helena tightened her grip on her sword and lifted it when the shadow clone launched for her throat. Helena and her copy clashed their blades together in a shower of sparks. A fight ensued alongside a clash of wills as Helena fought against a carbon copy with a stolen face for her life.

She would never admit that the clone provided a significant challenge. Her estimation was that Grimsbane watched her, spied on her carefully, or something for the shadow clone possessed similar fighting skills to her. Every move she launched, the shadow clone countered with unfailing and aggravating accuracy—much to Helena’s dismay. That didn’t stop Helena from trying everything up her sleeve. She kept swinging and dodging, hoping something would stick.

And something did, just not what she expected. One of her swings nearly contacted with the shadow’s neck, barely deflected by their arm. The shadow clone recoiled and hissed at the light, burned by the touch. Helena’s eyes flared in recognition and she knew that no matter how matched this carbon copy might be, she would never fear the light how a shadow did. Helena, with a curl of her wrist, disarmed the both of them and sent their swords clattering to the floor. Before the shadow clone could reach for the swords, Helena lashed out her arm and wrapped her hand around the clone’s throat, robbing it of breath. Helena squeezed and lifted the clone above her head, preparing for what little choice she had. She wished that she could avoid this-

Helena’s eyes flared and her fist glowed with light, burning the shadow clone underneath her touch. The shadow clone’s morbidly familiar screams filled the room as she disintegrated into nothingness, ruined by the fire. With the shadow clone of her destroyed, Helena faced a hoard of demons waiting to pounce on her and more than eager to take down the Guardian and Avenger. Glowing eyes, sharp talons, and varied growls slinked out of the shadows, which brought Lightbringer to stand high above the fray held by Helena. She brandished the blade and her eyes flared from underneath the hood.

_Three down, twelve to go. _

The demons raced in and Helena started swinging in reckless abandon, knowing her life depended on it. She needed to be unpredictable, untouchable, and frightening. She bellowed a war cry and slammed into the demons approaching her from all sides. She dodged, slashed, stabbed, kicked—whatever she needed to survive. Each demon that met its end by her hands, she counted down.

_Four, painfully impaled on an enemy blade. _

_Five and six, split heads wide open from her sword. _

_Seven, cleaved in half at the torso. _

_Eight, broken nose from shield hit followed by her sword through the chest._

_Nine and ten, throats slashed open and arteries severed. _

_Eleven, kicked so hard through a wall and buried in the rubble. _

_Twelve, disemboweled. _

_Thirteen, disintegrated by a spear of light through the heart. _

Helena tensed when she glanced around for any sight of the last demon awaiting her, knowing what she saw in the shadows. Then, from behind her, she heard the step of a foot and she whirled around. The sickening crunch of the blade echoed through the warehouse as Helena sliced clean through the bone. She watched the severed head unceremoniously roll from the neck and the demon melt into dust. _Fourteen. _

She raised her arms up to the thief in a challenge, showing that she had bested all their chosen warriors they sent to die. Her duty compelled her to win. They were doing it for selfish gains while she knew that billions of lives relied on her survival. She was Atlas, carrying the world on her back.

“There is only you and I left,” Helena remarked unimpressed by the display against her, expecting more for the thief’s arrogance. Perhaps that was why they seemed woefully underprepared to face her after all they had done. The thief slinked from the shadows, appearing unarmed. That was until they moved their arms and Helena caught a flash of curved silver hidden behind the dark cloak: a dagger. Helena raised her shield, and the thief surged forward, blade in hand and malice blazing in their eyes. No longer did they underestimate Helena or regard her with little more than boredom. She was a menace to them and as so, she needed to be eliminated.

Helena slammed her shield up against them, wanting to keep them at bay. The thief played into the role of the aggressor with zealous ferocity. This battle was more than an arbitrary war between the sides of good and evil or some lofty ideological stance. No, this was personal. Helena could feel it in the way that the thief poured malice into each strike.

Through the battle, Helena drew the first blood and subsequent marks that would expose black blood from the site of the wound. She was the superior fighter and they both knew it, which made the thief desperate for something. Helena never relented or pulled her punches through the exchange.

However, Helena was not infallible. Somehow, during the transition to close-quarters combat, the thief managed to duck underneath a deadly fast swing leveled by Helena’s sword for their face and that presented a weak spot in her armor. With wolfish smirk and killer intention, the thief invaded her guard and Helena realized her error a little too late. The thief curled the dagger upward and stabbed Helena in the lower side of her abdomen, bowling her over. The blade pierced through her skin and engulfed Helena in blinding, red-hot pain. Her vision swam with blurriness as the thief pushed the dagger deeper and jerkily twisted the hilt to the side, worsening the pain. Ichor seeped through the white of her dress, staining it with the taunt of a wound. She gasped and the thief leaned in, pausing to savor the moment.

“Pray your death comes swiftly, little goddess.” The thief sneered at Helena and, unexpectedly, stumbled back when Helena slammed her head against theirs in a fierce headbutt. Helena lost connection and watched as Lightbringer and her shield vanished from her arms, leaving her and the thief unarmed. She knelt down and reached for her side, suppressing a cry of pain. She flicked her eyes up and pushed the hood away from her face and pulled her mask down from her mouth. Ichor seeped through her dress and red danced inside the shimmering gold of godly blood, reminding her that she was still human. Helena wanted to scream, but she refused to. No stab wound was going to defeat her, not now, not ever.

Wordlessly, she studied the thief with anger that quickly melted into something else… and then she began to laugh. It started off as quiet but soon grew into boisterous, manic laughter. The thief became unnerved by Helena’s out of place laughter and warily shuffled backward, but that would not save them. Helena lunged back to her feet and threw a punch directly into their chest. She felt several crunches from the impact, which made her guess that she broke a couple of ribs in there. The thief flew back and collided with the ground. Helena was not far behind and she pounced on her foe, seating herself on the chest filled with ribs she just broke. The thief moaned and tried to escape from underneath Helena, but they weren’t going anywhere.

“I don’t think so,” Helena growled, and she raised hell when her fists became plated in light gauntlets, solid like metal but radiant like the light. She pulled her fist back and punched the thief straight in the face. _That was for Eprana. Another_ punch was thrown. _That was for making her fall into a depressive episode and nearly lose her damn mind. _A third punch followed. _That was for all the suffering they caused for her, her friends, and the lives she swore to protect._ Helena rained blow after blow against the thief, whose only defense was to weakly hold their hands above their face. The fight was far from fair, but Helena reached the point of forgetting to care. She was livid.

At one point, the thief attempted to reach for the blade in Helena’s side and pull it out. However, Helena caught their hand, and underneath a clench and jerk of her fist resulted in the sickening crunch of a shattered wrist. The thief screamed as Helena continued her onslaught, determined to right what they had wronged since the beginning of this sick cat and mouse game. Helena’s eyes zeroed in on the chain hanging around the thief’s neck. Attached to it was a glittering stone of light blue that adopted a soft glow to it—moonstone. Helena knew in some circles moonstone was a natural conduit and possessed some magical properties. An idea flashed in her mind, and Helena, slowing her punches to a halt, waited for an opportunity. The second one revealed itself, Helena lunged and wrapped her hand around the moonstone charm.

“No!” The thief released a bloodcurdling scream when Helena ripped the chain from around their neck. She slammed her elbow into their face when the thief attempted to touch her, causing their head to loll back. It was time to end things once and for all.

“Tenbra me tua dýnamí sas!” Helena chanted, calling upon the power of the most holy to bless her hands with the strength to seal the darkness. Her eyes flared blindingly white and she held the crystal above her head in two hands. The thief writhed underneath her and wailed raucously, begging for mercy. Helena witnessed their body melting into liquid shadow and racing up her body, absorbed into the crystal. Helena clenched the moonstone orb in her fist but knew she should leave it to the Gods.

They shall decide how to proceed with the thief’s intended fate.

“To the Pantheon! It is your will!” Helena exclaimed to the heavens as she threw the chain into the air with the crystal, watching the moonstone glimmer in the faint light. Her call to the Gods didn’t go unanswered as a bolt of lightning erupted within the warehouse. The stray bolt collided with the crystal with a thundering boom and a rippling wave of power that Helena protectively shielded her face from behind her hands. She peeked from behind her arms to see the crystal explode into a million irreparable shards and rain down. The thief was gone for good as the Gods willed such. Helena closed her eyes and titled her head to the sky, delivering a silent prayer to the Pantheon. Her ordeal was finished; she emerged victorious.

With shaking hands, Helena collapsed her weapons and staggered onto her feet with great difficulty. She felt dizziness slam into her with the force of a war elephant, but she forced back nausea as she opened her eyes. She took one step at a time, clutching at her side where the dagger was and limped toward the portal. She hastily checked for remaining enemies surrounding the warehouse and spotted none. The grounds of the abandoned warehouses were silent, not unlike the battlefield at war’s end. Helena felt out of breath but refused to stop limping. She knew not how much time passed since setting the distress signal or whether the others were alerted to her missing whereabouts. There would be only one way to find out.

Helena expended what little energy remained in her body and pushed toward the portal. Drawing closer, she heard distant voices and swore someone called her name. Her heart leaped into her throat; her friends had come for her! She reached the portal and nearly flung herself through the other side as she stumbled, barely catching herself.

“Steve!” Helena screamed at full volume, knowing that her voice might guide them to her. She called the first name to her mind, Steve’s, and prayed with the hope that she didn’t hallucinate her rescue. Her eyes darted around the pitch-black darkness of the thicket of trees up ahead and fear filled her, only noticed when she felt her hands quivering. She barely needed to wait for an answer as her voice echoed with desperation.

“Helena!” Steve’s distressed voice rang out from nearby and her head whipped around, trying to pinpoint the location. She would find them if she had to, knife wound be damned. Her form was wearing her down and the use of magic drained her faster than without it. Several other voices followed after Steve with the calling of her name.

“Where are you?” Natasha questioned, sounding nearby too. They had to be close. Helena assumed that they stayed together, and she sincerely hoped that was the case. Splitting up would take more time to find them all. She mustered her voice, ragged from all the fighting and screaming, and sucked in a rattling breath.

“Follow the sound of my voice!” Helena replied back, grimacing as she inched toward the trees ahead of her. She thought that was where the sound was coming from but couldn’t be sure. The world around her was spinning and tunnel vision kicked in. Her friends burst through the trees with frantic concern and their eyes laid on Helena, who looked worn out but unharmed. “You got the signal!” Helena cried out joyfully and she held her arms out to them, accidentally revealing the dagger protruding from her side. Their eyes widened and they rushed forward when Helena faltered.

“Helena, your side-! Were you were stabbed?” Steve exclaimed when he noticed the curved blade sticking out of her side and the dried ichor staining around the sight of the wound, no longer bleeding and healing at an accelerated rate. Helena, despite the fact there was a blade protruding from her body, gave her worried teammates an exhausted smile.

“The thief has been stopped,” Helena informed, and she lowered herself to her knees, slowly rolling around to lay on her back. She lowered herself to the grass of the clearing, still smiling as the exhaustion set in while the adrenaline wore off. The other Avengers glanced between each other, stunned by the news that the battle waged between Helena and the unknown thief for months finally concluded. It seemed that Helena emerged victorious, although not unscathed. Steve knelt beside her and Helena opened her eyes, meeting Steve’s relieved expression. “A miracle by the hand of the Pantheon delivered me from the jaws of death,” Helena whispered to him, causing a small smile to pull at Steve.

“You gave us quite the scare,” Steve remarked and missed the glances directed his way. Oh, the team was worried about Helena, but none of them even compared to the panic Steve flew into when the distress signal awoke him from a fitful sleep. The ominous coordinates and sparse message that came along with it did no favors and that made Steve fear the worst. He pushed his hair back from his face and stared into Helena’s eyes when he pleaded, “Please don’t do that again.” Steve and the others’ concern touched her heart, making Helena weakly smile.

“I would say that I won’t, but I can’t make promises for what fate has in store.” Helena breathlessly laughed and regretted it when the dagger reminded her of its presence. She buried the hiss in a thick swallow, but that didn’t escape the notice of the others.

“Banner, how is that wound looking?” Tony inquired, reminding everyone that, oh yeah—Helena got stabbed! In the levity of victory, the wound was forgotten by even Helena. Bruce knelt beside Helena and gave her a calm, reassuring smile as he studied the wound. He carefully adjusted her body to get a better angle of where the blade stuck through her armored dress. He hummed thoughtfully and made sure not to disturb the sight of the wound. 

“From what I can see of the positioning, the blade probably missed vital organs and arteries—which is positive here. The bleeding has so far stopped externally. However, her armor interferes with a full-scale, proper examination of the wound. Therefore, I cannot guarantee how minor or major the wound is,” Bruce assessed the wound and gave his opinion in real-time. He knew the cursory examination might set some nerves at ease but needed to conduct a thorough one. That would require better lighting, high tech equipment, and her to transform back from Solstice without potentially exposing her identity.

“We need to get her back to the tower,” Natasha calmly suggested and no one opposed that idea in the slightest, looking to Helena still lying on the grassy floor. She steadied herself with a breath and went to prepare to sit herself up, but the dull ache of the dagger protruding from her side kept her paralyzed in place. She failed to predict that her body would refuse to work once she laid down on the floor, which was less than ideal, but she could ask for some assistance.

“I might need some assistance getting up,” Helena sheepishly mumbled to the group, knowing that she needed help and not willing to make the mistake of being too prideful. She tried for the second time to sit herself up and kept a hand hovering near the stab wound, but the exhaustion anchored her to the ground. She groaned softly and her body, once tense while trying to move, went slack on her admission of defeat.

“Here, let me,” Steve remarked after racing to the other side of her body, clear of the dagger. He gestured for Helena to wrap her arms around his shoulders and when she did, he scooped her up with flawless ease into his arms. She was carried, bridal style, to the quinjet by Steve while he stayed mindful of the dagger still in her side. The others followed behind them and contributed to the conversation flowing between Helena and Steve.

“Can we also get some pizza? I am famished,” Helena inquired, sounding far off and genuinely exhausted, which was better than expected for the given situation. She was stabbed, fought off several demons and creatures of the darkness, and expended much of her arcane energy through spells a tad too advanced for her. 

“I think a near-death experience qualifies you for some pizza,” Tony agreed, sensing this was vaguely familiar to the Battle of New York. Ah, shawarma. But the pizza was good too, and Tony knew a good place a couple blocks from the tower. It didn’t matter that it was three AM or that everyone was still half asleep.

“I will personally pick it up myself,” Steve said, agreeing to make a pizza run at an unholy hour of the morning because Helena asked for it. Hearing that made Helena’s face brighten and some life return to her drooping eyes. Steve was concerned with keeping her awake and talking because letting her pass out would be a bad idea.

“Oh yeah? If that’s so, we might as well get more than one. I might eat a whole one myself,” Helena declared, causing some sleepy chuckles from the other, which was the best reception she would get at three AM. When the Avengers walked a short distance through the trees, they reached the emergency quinjet where it was landed in the middle of a clearing. The ramp of the quinjet descended and opened for the Avengers and they quickly boarded, eager to get back to the tower. Steve assisted Helena into a seat and she buckled herself in, careful to avoid the dagger lodged into her side. Her basic medical knowledge taught her that you never remove an impaled object unless you wanted to cause more damage. The wound was non-fatal, but she couldn’t argue the same for blood loss.

“Alright, buckle in, everyone!” Clint declared when he and Natasha climbed into the cockpit and assumed the co-pilot and pilot seats, respectively. The rest of the Avengers chose from the available open seats where to sit and prepared to return to the tower, crisis mode deactivated. Mostly, they were relieved to find Helena relatively unharmed and willing to head back to the tower. She had become an integral part of the team through her months since arriving in New York, fighting the drakon solo. That seemed like years ago, compared to less than a few months. If tonight proved anything, it would be that Helena was an Avenger through and through.

Helena glanced in the direction of the tower with a smile on her face and ready to rest after the ordeal. Her victory come and gone and her adrenaline winding down, leaving her exhausted and worn out. She knew that with the Avengers, on Earth, is where she was meant to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Tumblr (@queen-kass-the-writer) for additional content on Helena, Eprana, the Isle of Destiny, or the story in general! Please leave a kudos/comment if you enjoyed the series.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on Tumblr (@queen-kass-the-writer) for additional content on Helena, Eprana, the Isle of Destiny, or the story in general! Please leave a kudos/comment if you enjoyed the series.


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